PLAY  SCHOOL  SERIE 


Play  School  Series 
Edited  by  Clarl^  W.  Hetherinyton 


EDUCATING  BY 
STORY-TELLING 

SHOWING  THE 

VALUE  OF  STORY- TELLING  AS  AN  EDUCATIONAL 

TOOL  FOR  THE  USE  OF  ALL  WORKERS 

WITH  CHILDREN 

BY 

Katharine  Dunlap  Gather 

Author  of  "Boyhood   Stories    of    Famous  Men," 

"Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories." 

"The  Singing  Clock" 


Yonkers  •  on  -Hudson ,  New 
WORLD  BOOK  COMPANY 


WORLD    BOOK    COMPANY 

THE  HOUSE  OF  APPLIED  KNOWLEDGE 

Established,  1905,  by  Caspar  W.  Hodgson 
YONKERS-ON-HUDSON,  NEW  YORK 
2126   PRAIRIE   AVENUE,    CHICAGO 

The  Play  School  Series,  of  which  Educat- 
ing by  Story-Telling  is  a  member,  is  based 
on  the  work  of  the  Demonstration  Play 
School  of  the  University  of  California. 
Breaking  away  from  the  traditional  idea 
of  the  subjects  of  study,  this  school  has 
substituted  a  curriculum  of  activities  — 
the  natural  activities  of  child  life  —  out  of 
which  subjects  of  study  naturally  evolve. 
Succeeding  volumes  now  in  active  prepa- 
ration wifl  relate  to  the  other  activities 
which  form  the  educational  basis  for  the 
work  of  the  Play  School,  including  Social, 
Linguistic,  Moral,  Big-Muscle,  B-hythmic 
and  Musical,  Environmental  and  Nature, 
and  Economic  Activities.  Each  volume 
will  be  written  by  a  recognized  authority 
in  the  subject  dealt  with,  as  the  author  of 
Educating  by  Story-Telling  is  in  her  special 
field 


PBS: 


Copyright,  1918,  by  World  Book  Company 
All  rights  resened 


AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

FTHHIS  book  has  grown  out  of  years  of  experience 
-L  with  children  of  all  ages  and  all  classes,  and  with 
parents,  teachers,  librarians,  and  Sunday  School,  social 
center,  and  settlement  workers.  The  material  com- 
prising it  was  first  used  in  something  like  its  present 
form  in  the  University  of  California  Summer  Session, 
igi/i,  and  since  then  has  been  the  basis  of  courses 
given  in  that  institution,  as  well  as  in  private  classes 
and  lecture  work.  The  author  does  not  claim  that  it 
is  the  final  word  upon  the  subject  of  story-telling,  or 
that  it  will  render  obsolete  any  one  of  the  several  ex- 
cellent works  already  upon  the  market.  But  the 
response  of  children  to  the  stories  given  and  sug- 
gested, and  the  eagerness  with  which  the  principles 
herein  advocated  have  been  received  by  parents  and 
teachers,  have  convinced  her  that  the  book  contains 
certain  features  that  are  unique  and  valuable  to  those 
engaged  in  directing  child  thought. 

Other  works  have  shown  in  a  general  way  how  vast 
a  field  is  the  realm  of  the  narrator,  but  they  have  not 
worked  out  a  detailed  plan  that  the  busy  mother  or 
teacher  can  follow  in  her  effort  to  establish  standards, 
to  lead  her  small  charges  to  an  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful  in  literature  and  art,  and  to  endow  them 
with  knowledge  that  shall  result  in  creating  a  higher 
code  of  thought  and  action.  No  claim  is  made  that 
all  the  problems  of  the  school  and  home  are  solved 
in  the  ensuing  pages,  and  the  title,  "Educating  by 
Story-Telling,"  makes  no  assumption  that  story- 
telling can  accomplish  everything.  The  author  does 

iii 


2098239 


iv  Author's  Preface 

assume,  however,  that  when  used  with  wisdom  and 
skill,  the  story  is  a  powerful  tool  in  the  hands  of  the 
educator,  and  she  attempts  to  indicate  how,  by  this 
means,  some  portion  of  drudgery  may  be  eliminated 
from  the  schoolroom,  and  a  more  pleasurable  element 
be  put  into  it.  She  undertakes  to  demonstrate  how 
it  is  possible  to  intensify  the  child's  interest  in  most 
of  the  subjects  composing  the  curriculum,  not  by 
advancing  an  untried  theory,  but  by  traveling  along  a 
path  that  has  been  found  to  be  a  certain  road  to  attain- 
ment, not  only  for  the  gifted  creative  teacher,  but  for 
the  average  ordinary  one  who  is  often  baffled  by  the 
bigness  of  the  problem  she  has  to  solve. 

Grateful  acknowledgment  is  made  for  permission  to 
use  copyrighted  material  as  follows :  to  the  Whitaker, 
Ray,  Wiggin  Company  for  the  story  entitled  "The 
Search  for  the  Seven  Cities  "  (page  1^9) ;  to  Dr.  David 
Starr  Jordan  and  A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co.  for  "  The  Story 
of  a  Salmon  "  (page  255)  and  "  The  Story  of  a  Stone  " 
(page  33 1) ;  to  the  David  C.  Cook  Company  for  "  The 
Pigeons  of  Venice"  (page  263),  "The  Duty  That 
Wasn't  Paid"  (page  278),  " Wilhehnina's  Wooden 
Shoes"  (page  288),  "The  Luck  Boy  of  Toy  Valley  " 
(page  3o2),  and  "  The  Pet  Raven  "  (page  3 17) ;  and  to 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.  for  "The  Emperor's  Vision" 
(page  3o6). 

KATHERINE  DUNLAP  GATHER 


CONTENTS 

PART  ONE 

STORY-TELLING  AND  THE  ARTS  OF  EXPRESSION  — 
ESTABLISHING  STANDARDS 

PAGE 

AUTHOR'S  PREFACE       .........       iii 

EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION ix 

CHAPTER 

I.   THE  PURPOSE  AND  AIM  OF  STORY-TELLING  ...        1 

II.   THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  —  A.    RHYTHMIC 

PERIOD 12 

Sources  of  Story  Material  for  the  Rhythmic  Period     .       19 

III.  THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  —  B.   IMAGINA- 

TIVE PERIOD     .  20 

Bibliography  of  Fairy  Tales 31 

IV.  THE   STORY    INTERESTS   OF   CHILDHOOD  —  C.   HEROIC 

PERIOD 32 

Sources  of  Story  Material  for  the  Heroic  Period  .         .       41 

V.   THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  —  D.   ROMANTIC 

PERIOD 42 

Sources  of  Story  Material  for  the  Romantic  Period      .  51 

VI.  BUILDING  THE  STORY 52 

VII.  TELLING  THE  STORY 58 

Books  on  Story-Telling 68 

VIII.  STORY-TELLING  TO  LEAD  TO  AN  APPRECIATION  OF  LIT- 
ERATURE   69 

Some  Authors  and  Selections  That  Can  Be  Presented 
through  the  Story-Telling  Method  ....  81 

Sources  of  Material  to  Lead  to  an  Appreciation  of 
Literature  .  . 82 

IX.   STORY-TELLING   TO   AWAKEN   AN    APPRECIATION    OF 

Music 83 

Illustrative  Story,  "A  Boy  of  Old  Vienna"  ...  89 

Sources  of  Material  to  Awaken  an  Appreciation  of  Music  94 

Pictures  to  Use  in  Telling  Musical  Stories   ...  94 
V 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAOH 

X.   STORY-TELLJNG  TO  AWAKEN  AN  APPRECIATION  OF  ART  95 
Artists  and  Paintings  That  Can  Be  Presented  to  Young 

Children  through  the  Story-Telling  Method     .         .  102 
Artists  and  Paintings  for  Children  of  the  Intermediate 

Period 103 

Artists  and  Paintings  That  Lead  to  Appreciation  of  the 

Beautiful  and  to  Respect  for  Labor  ....  104 
Artists  and  Paintings  for  the  Heroic  and  Epic  Periods  .  105 
Bibliography  of  Art  Story  Material      ....  105 
Sources  for  Moderate-Priced  Reproductions  of  Master- 
pieces       .........  106 

XI.   DRAMATIZATION 107 

Pictures  Containing  Subjects  for  Dramatization  .        .  116 
Books  and  Stories  for  Use  in  Dramatic  Work  with  Little 

Children 116 

Bibliography  of  Material  for  Dramatization         .        .  117 

XII.  BIBLE  STORIES        .        . 118 

Sources  of  Material  for  Bible  Stories    .        .        .        .131 

XIII.  STORY-TELLING  AND  THE  TEACHING  OF  ETHICS    .        .  132 

Stories  to  Develop  or  Stamp  out  Certain  Traits  and 

Instincts  .         .         . 137 

Sources  of  Material  to  Use  in  the  Teaching  of  Ethics  .  140 

PART  TWO 

THE  USE  OF  STORY-TELLING  TO  ILLUMINATE  SOME 
SCHOOLROOM  SUBJECTS  —  STORIES  FOR  TELLING 

XIV.  STORY-TELLING  TO  INTENSIFY  INTEREST  IN  HISTORY    .  143 

Illustrative  Story,  "The  Search  for  the  Seven  Cities"  .  149 

XV.  STORY-TELLING  TO  INTENSIFY  INTEREST  IN  GEOGRAPHY  .  168 

Illustrative  Story, "  The  God  of  the  Thundering  Water  "  174 

Sources  of  Material  to  Use  in  History  and  Geography  .  177 

XVf.  STORY-TELLING  TO   INTENSIFY   INTEREST  IN   NATURE 

STUDY      .,  . ; -.  . .,..-.. 178 

Illustrative  Story,  "The  Wonderful  Builders"     .        .  188 

Sources  of  Material  for  Science  Stories  191 


Contents  vii 

CHAPTER  PAOH 

XVII.  STORY-TELLING  IN   DOMESTIC  SCIENCE  AND  MANUAL 

TRAINING          ........  192 

Illustrative  Story,  "The  Dervish  of  Mocha"       .        .  195 
Sources  of  Material  to  Use  in  Domestic  Science  and 

Manual  Training 197 

XVIII.  DOES  THE  WORK  OF  THE  STORY-TELLER  PAY?  198 


STORIES  FOR  TELLING 

The  Story  of  the  Man  in  the  Moon  (Alsatian  Folk   Tale  — 

Christmas  Story  —  Ethics,  teaching  honesty)   ....  203 
The  Discontented  Pig  (Thuringian  Folk  Tale  —  Ethics,  teaching 

contentment) 204 

The  Bat  and  His  Partners  (Old  Bavarian  Folk  Tale  —  Helpful  in 

Nature  Study) 208 

Brier  Rose  (Wonder  Tale) 209 

The  Coat  of  All  Colors  (Thuringian  Wonder  Tale)        .        .        .212 
The  Poor  Man  and  the  Rich  Man  (Folk  Tale  —  Ethics,  teaching 

kindness)        ..........  218 

The  Silver  Cones  (Ethics  —  Geography)        .        .        .        .        .  222 

The  Forget-Me-Not  (Thuringian  Folk  Tale  —  Helpful  in  Nature 

Study) 226 

The  Little  Stepmother  (Thuringian  Folk  Tale  —  Nature  Study)   .  227 

The  Rabbit  and  the  Easter  Eggs  (Bavarian  Folk  Tale)          .        .  228 

The  Easter  Eggs  (Ethics) 229 

Prince  Unexpected  (Slavic  Wonder  Tale) 239 

The  Greedy  Cobbler  (Welsh  Folk  Tale  —  Ethict,  teaching  content- 
ment)       251 

The  Story  of  a  Salmon  (Science)   .......  255 

The  Pigeons  of  Venice  (History) 263 

The  Coming  of  the  Wonder  Tree  (Geography  —  Nature  Study)     .  269 
The  Gift  of  the  Gnomes  (Geography  —  Ethics)      .         .         .         .274 

The  Duty  That  Wasn't  Paid  (Biography  —  Music  —  Ethics)     .  278 

Wilhelmina's  Wooden  Shoes  (Biography  —  Art  Teaching)      .         .  283 
The  Lady  of  Stavoren  (Geography  —  Ethics)         .        .        .        .289 

The  Luck  Boat  of  Lake  Geneva  (Geography)         ....  295 


viii  Contents 

PAGE 

Why  the  Japanese  Love  the  Stork  (Geography)     ....  296 
Why  Grizzly  Bear  Goes  on  All  Fours  (Indian  Folk  Tale  —  Geog- 
raphy—Ethics)       299 

The   Luck   Boy  of  Toy  Valley  (Geography  —  Ethics  —  Manual 

Training) 302 

The  Emperor's  Vision  (Medieval  Legend  —  Ethics)        .        .         .  306 

The  Shepherd  Who  Turned  Back  (Ethics) 311 

The  Pet  Raven  (Geography  —  Ethics) 317 

Jussieu  and  the  Heliotrope  (Science  —  Nature  Study)    .        .        .  325 

The  Fall  of  London  Bridge  (History) 326 

How  They  Came  to  Have  Kite  Day  in  China  (Physical  Educa- 
tion)         330 

The  Story  of  a  Stone  (Science)      .        .        .        .  .        .331 

LIST  OF  STORIES  BY  MONTHS 

FIRST  GRADE  :  September  to  June       .        .        .        .        .        .  341 

SECOND  GRADE  :  September  to  June 345 

THIRD  GRADE  :  September  to  June 348 

FOURTH  GRADE  :  September  to  June 352 

FIFTH  GRADE  :  September  to  June 356 

SIXTH  GRADE  :  September  to  June 360 

SEVENTH  GRADE  :  September  to  June 363 

EIGHTH  GRADE  :  September  to  June    ......  367 

COMPLETE  BIBLIOGRAPHY 371 

INDEX        .        ...  389 


EDITOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

rilHE  story  is  a  phase  of  communication  —  the  in- 
J_  stinctive  tendency  to  signal  and  transmit  feel- 
ings and  ideas  and  to  respond  to  such  expressions  — 
and  communication  is  associated  with  the  social  com- 
plex of  instincts  and  emotions  as  indicated  by  these 
responses.  Through  the  power  of  social  sympathy 
in  this  complex,  curiosity  and  the  imagination  are 
brought  under  the  sway  of  communication,  especially 
in  the  story.  Indeed,  the  psychology  of  the  story 
reveals  how  deeply  social  sympathy  influences  the 
imagination  and  controls  curiosity.  The  primitive 
side  of  this  social  sympathy  is  seen  in  the  responses 
of  social  animals  to  the  calls  of  their  kind,  in  the  rush 
of  dogs  and  men  to  the  cries  of  battle.  Its  power  over 
the  imagination  is  shown  in  the  swaying  of  the  specta- 
tor to  the  movements  of  the  athlete,  his  ejaculations 
and  his  cries  of  distress  or  delight.  Through  sympathy 
in  imagination  the  spectator  enters  the  contest. 
Further,  so  socially  minded  are  we,  and  so  depend- 
ent upon  social  guidance,  that  curiosity  is  nowhere  so 
keen,  nor  the  imagination  so  active,  as  in  the  com- 
munication of  a  life  situation.  Any  incident  or  ac- 
cumulation of  incidents  that  we  call  a  plot  in  the 
experience  of  an  individual  or  group  of  individuals, 
grips  the  mind.  This  explains  the  fascination  of  the 
story.  Gossip  and  scandal  are  the  less  worthy  forms. 
The  novel  is  exalted  gossip  or  scandal;  the  drama 
the  same  acted  out.  They  all  feed  the  tremendous 
hunger  for  insight  into  life.  They  unroll  the  curtain 
on  the  content  of  life,  or  some  phase  of  life.  Hence 
the  story  is  the  natural  form  for  revealing  life. 

ix 


x  Editor's  Introduction 

Communication,  like  life,  may  be  either  serious  or 
frivolous;  hence  the  story  carries  both  functions.  It 
pictures  or  expresses  life  in  both  phases.  But  the 
form  of  the  story  itself  is  pleasurable ;  and  thus  story- 
telling may  degenerate  into  mere  amusement.  This 
possibly  has  led  to  both  its  abuse  and  its  neglect. 

The  fact  that  the  story  is  so  enjoyable  to  children 
has  led  teachers  and  parents  to  use  it  merely  as  amuse- 
ment, irrespective  of  content,  or  even  of  artistic  form. 
This  tendency  has  been  met  by  publishers.  As  proof, 
note  the  books  exhibited  at  Christmas  time  in  any 
bookshop.  They  show  the  enormous  amount  of  trash 
set  up  in  book  form  for  child  consumption.  This  is 
a  more  serious  danger  than  the  trash  read  by  adults, 
because  they  are  food  for  hungry  minds  at  the  growing 
age.  The  importance  is  shown  of  selecting  stories 
according  to  recognized  criteria.  While  the  child 
enjoys  the  story,  he  has  no  judgment  of  values  in  the 
story  other  than  its  pleasure-giving  qualities.  As 
judgment  is  a  product  of  education,  so  judging  values 
is  an  adult  function ;  the  adult  must  study  all  stories, 
but  not  tell  all  stories.  The  story-teller  must  analyze 
the  story  plot,  criticize  the  values,  select  and  adapt 
stories  to  age  periods  and  to  other  child  needs.  This 
task  Mrs.  Gather  has  performed  in  her  book. 

The  mere  fact  that  the  story  amuses  has  caused  a 
neglect  of  its  larger  functions  in  education.  This  is 
due  to  the  traditional  attitude  toward  the  pleasurable 
in  education.  Education  is  life,  and  synonymous  with 
the  joys  and  griefs  of  life ;  but  the  traditions  of  the 
school  when  it  was  a  place  simply  to  master  the  three 
R's,  and  the  traditions  of  intellectualism,  monkish 


Editor's  Introduction  ri 

asceticism,  and  Puritanism,  have  conspired  to  per- 
petuate the  idea  of  education  as  a  "hard"  process. 
That  it  is  "hard"  is  demonstrated  by  the  vast  number 
of  children  who  dislike  school  and  drop  out  of  it  before 
finishing  the  grades,  and  by  the  small  number  of  those 
who  go  through  its  process  and  think  of  education  and 
its  discipline  with  delight.  Yet  this  is  what  all  normal, 
vigorous  children  should  feel.  There  is  probably  no 
more  profound  or  serious  issue  in  education  or  de- 
mocracy —  and  democracy  depends  on  education  — 
than  this  conflict  between  the  advocates  of  a  school 
process  that  is  "hard"  and  the  advocates  of  a  process 
that  is  "pleasurable."  The  arguments  exhibit  the 
two  extremes  in  all  such  controversies :  the  advocates 
of  "discipline,"  "iron,"  "the  bitter  pill"  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  advocates  of  "freedom"  and  "enjoy- 
ment, "  -  really  soft  pedagogy  and  license,  —  on  the 
other.  The  truth,  as  is  usually  the  case,  lies  between 
the  two  schools.  Both  are  right  in  part,  and  both 
are  wrong  in  part.  Both  see  an  essential,  and  both 
fail  to  see  the  reverse  side  of  what  each  advocates. 
There  is  no  conflict  between  real  discipline  and  real 
pleasure;  they  cannot  be  separated  in  child  life. 
This  being  so,  the  story  is  bound  to  take  a  large  place 
in  the  teaching  of  the  future. 

The  story  amuses,  but  its  function  is  not  merely 
to  amuse.  Pleasure  is  not  the  aim  of  life,  nor  even 
its  sole  guide ;  it  is  an  index  of  life,  especially  in  the 
young. 

The  point  needs  to  be  emphasized  that  the  story  is 
the  carrier,  always  has  been  the  carrier,  and  will 
remain  the  natural  carrier  of  racial  tradition  or  infonna- 


xii  Editor's  Introduction 

tion  and  ideals.  The  story  in  education  has  two  func- 
tions :  (i)  it  is  the  molder  of  ideals,  and  (2)  it  is  the 
illuminator  of  facts. 

(i)  The  highest  and  most  difficult  achievement  in 
educational  effort  is  the  establishment  of  standards 
or  ideals  that  function  in  judgment  and  behavior. 
The  place  of  the  story  in  moral  education  has  been 
emphasized  by  many  writers.  Its  place  in  develop- 
ing an  appreciation  of  artistic  forms  in  language,  in 
music,  and  in  the  graphic  arts  is  splendidly  illustrated 
in  this  book. 

Appreciation  is  an  emotional  response,  primarily 
instinctive,  but  developed  through  experience  and 
according  to  high  or  low  artistic  standards  by  social 
approval  or  disapproval.  In  the  emotional  response 
lies  interest  and  in  the  character  of  the  emotional  re- 
sponse lies  the  character  of  the  interest.  The  interest 
may  be  crude,  vulgar,  or  vicious,  or  it  may  be  ideal, 
but  in  either  case  it  is  a  product  of  developed  emotional 
habits.  In  the  life  of  the  child  this  emotional  response 
precedes  the  intellectual  judgment  of  artistic  values 
which  comes  later  and  only  through  contrast  and  com- 
parison, and  the  former  is  vastly  more  important  in 
social  significance  for  the  pleasure  of  the  mass  than 
the  latter.  This  development  of  the  artistic  emotional 
response  may  be  cleverly  guided  through  the  story, 
as  Mrs.  Gather  shows,  and  she  gives  a  wealth  of  sug- 
gestions for  the  use  of  the  teacher. 

But  the  story  itself  is  a  form  of  artistic  expression 
and  thus  subject  to  the  application  of  standardizing 
judgments.  A  good  story  must  be  judged  by  a  double 
standard.  It  may  be  good  in  the  sense  that  it  is  well 


Editor's  Introduction  xiii 

told  —  and  well  told  means  simply  that  the  incident 
or  plot  is  related  in  sequence,  with  such  emphasis  and 
form  of  language  that  it  grips  the  human  instinctive 
response  to  the  dramatic;  or  it  may  be  good  in  the 
sense  that  it  carries  a  good  content  in  meaning  or  ideal. 
These  two  standards  may  not,  frequently  do  not, 
coincide.  A  story  may  be  so  told  that  it  is  most  fas- 
cinating, and  yet  the  content  be  mere  rubbish  or  even 
vicious ;  or  the  content  may  be  correct  and  the  telling 
so  poorly  done  that  it  kills  interest. 

Many  stories  are  told  because  of  their  "beauty" 
of  form,  where  the  content  is  not  true.  Some  such 
stories  are  valuable  because  of  the  standardizing 
sentiments  they  carry,  but  truth  is  as  important  at 
least  as  the  aesthetic.  The  human  intellect  evolved 
to  interpret  meanings  and  progressively  perfect  be- 
havior adjustments.  Each  age  of  racial  experience 
brings  on  its  new  interpretations,  and  broadly,  each 
age  makes  advances  upon  that  which  preceded.  Old 
theories  fall,  new  truths  arise;  but  old  theories  hold 
sway  over  the  imagination  of  the  masses  long  after 
the  leaders  have  accepted  higher  truths  because  the 
old  is  well  told  while  the  new  lacks  the  poetic  ex- 
pression of  the  artist.  Literature  is  well-told  in- 
formation, yet  under  the  guise  of  literature  goblins 
and  superstitions  and  worn-out  theories  parade  in 
the  imagination  and  thus  mold  ideals  and  behavior. 

The  problem  of  the  professional  story-teller  of  the 
future  is  to  tell  the  best  information  of  the  age  in  as 
fascinating  a  form  as  the  old  myths  and  fables 
are  now  told  after  years  of  repetition.  Only  in 
this  way  can  contemporary  popular  opinion  be  kept 


xiv  Editor's  Introduction 

abreast  of  the  scientific  truth  of  the  time,  instead  of 
dragging  along  in  the  superstitions  of  the  past. 

Some  stories  are  told  though  untrue,  because  they 
"develop  the  imagination,"  but  this  by  itself  is  a 
dangerous  criterion.  The  function  of  the  imagination 
is  to  reconstruct  the  world  in  mental  terms  which  will 
guide  behavior.  The  functioning  of  the  imagination 
in  any  kind  of  images  will  develop  "power,"  but  the 
power  may  be  detrimental  individually  and  socially 
if  the  images  cause  crooked  thinking.  Straight  think- 
ing depends  on  the  imagination  —  on  the  kind  of 
emotionalized  images  which  habitually  arise  in  any 
thought  situation  or  problem.  Just  so  far  as  stories 
are  untrue  and  without  great  moral  value,  yet  are 
fascinatingly  told,  so  far  do  they  encourage  untrue 
imagining  and  emotional  attitudes,  and  therefore  untrue 
thinking.  And  inasmuch  as  the  emotional  response  to 
the  single  interpretative  concept,  the  single  vision  of 
life,  is  vastly  stronger  through  tradition  than  the  interest 
in  the  discovery  of  complex  relationships,  —  and  truth 
comes  finally  only  through  the  latter,  —  the  emotional- 
ized habits  of  imagination  in  interpretation  are  pro- 
foundly important  for  democracy. 

Democracy  cannot  exist  with  a  population  of  fuzzy 
thinkers.  Story-telling,  like  all  educational  effort, 
must  develop  the  imagination  in  mental  terms  that 
will  function  in  life  today. 

(2)  The  story  is  an  illuminator  of  facts.  The  child 
gets  his  information  by  activities  in  relation  to  the 
environment,  by  exploration,  observation,  experimen- 
tation, with  the  everlasting  play  of  the  interpretative 
processes,  and  by  responding  to  and  accepting  or  re- 


Editor's  Introduction  xv 

jecting  the  communicated  interpretations  put  upon 
phenomena  by  his  social  group.  In  this  process  of 
interpretation  there  is  the  immediate  environment 
which  can  be  sensed,  but  is  understood  only  through 
its  reconstruction  in  the  imagination,  largely  in  lin- 
guistic terms ;  and  the  remote  environment  which 
cannot  be  sensed  and  which  can  be  understood  only 
as  it  is  built  in  the  imagination  as  an  extension  of  the 
reconstructed  sensed  environment.  In  these  recon- 
structive processes  the  story  is  the  most  powerful 
correlating  and  illuminating  educational  force  we  have, 
as  may  be  indicated  by  a  brief  analysis. 

The  activities  of  the  school  curriculum  dealing  with 
the  environment  have  two  natural  foci  of  interest  for 
the  child,  (a)  The  civic-geographical-historical  com- 
plex (when  rightly  organized  just  one  subject)  and 
(6)  the  physical-biological  complex,  which  is  now 
coming  to  be  called  "general  science."  For  the  child 
these  two  groups  of  the  environmental  activities  cover 
the  whole  of  adult  science,  philosophy,  and  religion, 
and  both  require  a  tremendous  reconstructive  func- 
tioning of  the  imagination. 

(a)  The  first  group  is  a  new  coming  correlation 
which  naturally  must  carry  with  it  organized  com- 
munication or  the  larger  share  of  language  and  litera- 
ture. The  investigation  of  the  local  social  environment 
is  the  basis  of  all "  civics, "  "  geography, "  and  "history." 
It  expands  as  civics.  When  the  child  projects  his 
interpretations  of  any  human  activity  into  another 
environment  so  that  he  is  reconstructing  in  his  im- 
agination the  life  habits  and  customs  of  the  people 
hi  relation  to  the  physical  and  biological  characteris- 


xvi  Editor's  Introduction 

tics  of  the  country,  he  is  studying  geography.  When 
he  goes  backward  in  time  in  this  process,  he  is  study- 
ing history. 

In  this  concentric  widening  of  the  intellectual  horizon 
concerning  human  life  and  its  relationships  to  the 
environment,  the  imagination  must  reconstruct  a 
world  which  it  cannot  sense.  The  facts  may  be  gained 
from  pictures,  maps,  descriptions,  but  to  become 
functional  in  thought  in  any  other  than  in  a  mere 
commercial  sense,  the  reconstruction  must  touch  the 
emotions  so  that  the  life  and  conditions  of  living  of 
the  people  will  be  felt.  When  felt  the  life  will  be  dwelt 
upon  in  imagination,  and  when  dwelt  upon  in  imagina- 
tion it  will  function  in  the  life  activities  of  the  child. 
Giving  this  vivid,  felt  insight  into  the  life  conditions 
of  other  people  is  the  function  of  the  story.  Through 
the  hunger  to  feel  life  the  story  reveals  life. 

(6)  The  story  also  functions  for  children  in  the 
interpretation  of  the  physical-biological  environment 
or  "general  science." 

Between  six  and  fourteen  years  of  age  is  the  neglected 
period  for  science,  and  it  is  the  age  when  the  story  may 
function  in  the  biggest  way  as  a  natural  educational 
tool.  Yet  so  absorbed  are  school  men  in  the  problem 
of  drilling  children  in  the  dissected  elements  of  the 
written  language  that  they  do  not  even  understand 
one  of  the  two  chief  characteristics  of  child  nature  at 
this  age,  —  the  rapidly  expanding  curiosity  concern- 
ing nature.  It  is  the  age  of  the  first  crude  control  of 
the  "scientific  instinct,"  the  tendency  to  experiment, 
and  explore.  It  is  the  age  for  fixing  the  questioning 
habit  and  building  a  common-sense  confidence  in  anr1 


Editor's  Introduction  xvii 

familiarity  with  nature.  These  results  follow  from  the 
logical  processes  involved  in  the  activities,  not  from 
being  presented  with  the  formalized  and  logical  results 
of  adult  science.  The  child  will  have  none  of  this 
latter  if  he  can  help  it;  he  wants  to  do  his  own  ex- 
perimenting. In  this  process  again  the  story  gives 
the  larger  insight.  The  child  acquires  facts  by  ex- 
perimentation, observation,  exploration,  but  the  larger 
meanings  and  relationships  require  imaginative  recon- 
struction. The  child  can  observe  the  fish  or  the  fly 
at  different  stages  of  their  development,  but  the  story 
of  the  life  history  of  the  fish  or  fly  gives  what  observa- 
tion cannot  supply.  It  is  as  fascinating  as  any  fairy 
tale  when  told  with  the  same  consideration  for  dramatic 
form,  and  the  story  is  true  besides.  The  child  cannot 
understand  evolution  as  presented  by  Darwin,  or  by 
the  teacher  of  biology  in  the  high  schools ;  but  the 
child  even  of  eight  revels  in  the  stories  that  carry 
the  facts  of  evolution,  and  thus  he  gains  a  rightfeeling 
towards  the  wonderful  meaning  of  the  progress  of 
natural  things,  which  makes  later  thinking  true  and 
easy.  So  strong  is  the  response  to  the  story  that  even 
the  history  of  physical  things  when  set  in  a  natural 
story  form,  stimulates. 

The  fairy  tales  of  the  future  will  be  well-told  stories 
from  our  sciences  or  human  life  and  nature,  the  two 
natural  centers  of  interest  in  the  environment,  and 
we  may  expect  as  results  in  public  opinion  a  broader 
common  sense  and  a  lessened  gullibility.  In  this 
organization  of  science  and  modern  thought  in  story 
^orm  for  its  larger  use  in  education  the  professional 
otory-teller  has  still  a  great  unfinished  task  to  perform. 


xviii  Editor's  Introduction 

Its  beginnings  are  in  this  book,  and  Mrs.  Gather  is 
already  at  work  on  a  broader  compilation  of  materials 
for  a  later  volume.  In  this  larger  functioning  of  the 
story  the  old  fairy  tales  and  myths  will  take  their  place 
as  historical  data  to  give  comparative  insight  into  the 
beliefs  of  people  in  the  past,  a  sympathetic  understand- 
ing of  their  limitations  in  knowledge,  and  an  apprecia- 
tion of  our  privileges  in  civilization,  due  largely  to  the 
struggles  of  the  past. 

CLARK  W.  HETHERINGTON 


PART  ONE 

STORY-TELLING  AND  THE  ARTS  OF  EXPRESSION 
ESTABLISHING  STANDARDS 


EDUCATING  BY  STORY-TELLING 

CHAPTER  ONE 
THE  PURPOSE  AND  AIM  OF  STORY-TELLING 

EVER  since  the  beginning  of  things  the  story-teller 
has  been  a  personage  of  power,  an  individual 
welcomed  by  young  and  old  alike.  Hailed  as  a  joy 
bringer  and  heeded  as  an  oracle,  his  tales  have  been 
the  open  sesame  to  admit  him  to  any  throng  and  his 
departure  has  always  been  attended  with  regret. 
During  the  Middle  Ages  he  was  a  privileged  character, 
free  to  wander  at  will  into  camp  or  court.  The  Piso 
manuscript  in  the  museum  at  Budapest  tells  of  the 
solicitous  effort  made  by  Ladislaus  of  Hungary  to 
secure  safe-conduct  through  Bohemia  and  Austria  for 
a  favorite  narrator,  and  many  other  old  chronicles 
attest  to  the  fact  that  in  France,  Germany,  Italy,  and 
the  British  Isles  passports  were  given  to  minstrels 
and  raconteurs  when  no  one  else  could  obtain  them. 
Long  before  this  period,  during  the  nomadic  existence 
of  the  race,  the  mightiest  men  of  the  tribe  were  the 
chieftain  and  the  story-teller,  the  one  receiving  homage 
because  of  his  ability  to  vanquish  his  adversaries  in 
battle,  the  other  because  of  his  skill  in  entertaining 
his  fellows  as  they  huddled  around  the  fire  at  night. 
Each  ability  was  believed  to  be  evidence  of  divine 
gifts,  and  the  possessor  of  each  was  revered  as  being 
a  little  higher  than  a  mortal,  a  little  lower  than  a  god. 
Primitive  man,  like  civilized  man,  was  fond  of  power, 
and  realizing  that  his  talents  made  him  mighty,  the 


2  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

narrator  exercised  them  in  such  a  manner  as  to  pro- 
mote their  development.  Every  emotional  response 
on  the  part  of  his  hearers  served  as  a  key  to  unlock 
doors  into  the  land  of  his  desire,  and  as  he  listened  to 
exclamations  of  approval,  condemnation,  or  delight, 
he  saw  ways  of  arousing  these  emotions  to  even  greater 
degrees  of  intensity  and,  possessing  an  elemental 
love  of  the  spectacular,  made  the  most  of  his  oppor- 
tunity. Thus  he  evolved  from  a  crude  declaimer  into 
something  of  an  artist.  As  the  race  emerged  from 
a  barbaric  into  a  pastoral  state,  he  grew  to  be  more 
than  an  entertainer;  he  imparted  knowledge  to  the 
young  by  keeping  alive  the  tribal  traditions. 

On  the  Asiatic  highlands,  before  the  Aryan  migra- 
tion, it  was  the  story-teller  who  preserved  the  tales 
of  the  fathers,  the  nature  myths  that  were  primitive 
man's  explanation  of  the  things  he  did  not  understand. 
The  journey  of  the  sun  across  the  heavens,  the  shifting 
of  clouds  from  one  fantastic  form  to  another,  the  chro- 
matic skies  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  the  starry 
firmament  of  night  aroused  his  curiosity  and  awakened 
his  awe.  He  wondered  about  them  just  as  children 
today  wonder  about  them,  and  just  as  the  twentieth- 
century  child  questions  his  mother,  so  he  questioned 
one  whom  he  deemed  wiser  than  himself.  This  con- 
sulted oracle  gave  as  an  explanation  something  that 
out  of  his  own  wondering  and  puzzling  had  grown  into 
a  vague  belief,  and  consequently  the  clouds  that  pre- 
saged showers  came  to  be  regarded  as  heavenly  cows 
from  whose  exuberant  udders  came  the  rains  that 
refreshed  the  earth ;  stormy  oceans  and  rugged  moun- 
tains with  ravines  beset  with  perils  held  giants  that 


The  Purpose  and  Aim  of  Story-Telling  3 

avenged  and  destroyed;  while  the  sun,  a  beneficent 
creature  that  drove  away  the  monster  of  darkness, 
and  all  the  saving  forces  of  nature,  were  metamor- 
phosed in  the  fancy  of  these  early  men  into  protecting 
heroes  and  divinities. 

As  generation  succeeded  generation  and  the  young 
received  their  allotment  of  lore  from  the  old,  these 
stories  became  fixed  so  firmly  in  the  minds  of  the  people 
that  they  were  carried  with  them  at  the  scattering 
of  the  tribes,  told  and  retold  in  the  new-found  homes, 
and  modified  to  suit  conditions  of  h'fe  in  strange  lands 
the  wanderers  came  to  inhabit ;  and  they  still  survive 
as  present-day  fairy  tales.  There  are  various  theories 
of  how  these  old  beliefs  came  to  be  disseminated,  how 
it  happened  that  tales  supposed  to  be  indigenous  to 
Finland  or  Madagascar  are  found  in  slightly  different 
dress  among  the  tribes  of  Central  Africa  and  in  other 
sections  of  the  world  remote  from  each  other;  but 
no  matter  how  much  folklorists  disagree  as  to  the  pro- 
cess through  which  the  tales  evolved  to  their  present 
form,  they  do  not  differ  as  to  their  significance,  and 
whether  they  accept  the  Aryan  theory  promulgated  by 
Max  M  tiller  or  the  totemistic  theory  of  Andrew  Lang, 
they  unite  in  a  belief  that  these  ancient  tales  represent 
the  religion  of  primitive  man,  a  religion  growing  out 
of  fear  of  the  unknown. 

Always  it  was  by  the  lips  of  the  story-teller  that  the 
legends  were  kept  alive.  It  was  his  mission  to  teach 
children  the  tales  then-  fathers  knew,  and  as  the  race 
evolved  toward  civilization  he  gave  them  something 
besides  nature  myths.  He  recounted  and  reiterated 
the  achievements  of  the  heroes  of  his  peopie  until 


4  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

youths  who  heard  were  fired  with  desire  to  emulate. 
Because  he  was  deemed  a  man  of  supernal  powers, 
his  words  were  believed ;  consequently  he  created  the 
ideals  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  just  as  his 
own  standards  were  fine  or  base,  so  the  ideals  for 
which  he  was  responsible  came  to  be  high  or  low. 
Fortunately  for  the  world,  however,  these  old-time 
narrators  were  wiser  than  their  fellows.  They  were 
poets  and  dreamers  who  saw  life  through  eyes  vision 
clear.  They  glorified  virtue  and  deprecated  vice, 
taught  that  right  triumphs  over  wrong  and  that  sin- 
ning brings  inevitable  punishment,  and  explained  in 
a  crude  way  the  workings  of  the  law  of  compensation. 
They  fired  men  to  achievement  just  as  they  fired  boys 
with  desire  to  emulate  the  heroes  of  whom  they  told, 
and  as  centuries  passed  and  they  grew  in  skill  and 
power,  their  tales  came  to  be  the  inspiration  of  some 
of  the  most  thrilling  chapters  in  the  annals  of  man. 
Alexander  the  Great  declared  that  the  lays  of  a  wander- 
ing bard,  Homer,  made  him  thirst  for  conquest.  In 
Germany,  in  the  twelfth  century,  the  influence  of  a 
penniless  gleeman,  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide,  was 
greater  than  that  of  the  Pope.  There  was  no  more 
puissant  man  in  Ireland  when  Ireland  was  in  its  golden 
day  and  Tara  in  its  glory  than  the  low-born  minstrel, 
Brian  of  Fermanagh;  and  the  Crusades,  which  re- 
created Europe  by  the  introduction  of  Eastern  culture 
and  the  breaking  down  of  old  traditions,  might  never 
have  been  undertaken  but  for  tales  of  defilement  of 
holy  places  from  the  lips  of  Peter  the  Hermit.  Story- 
tellers every  one  of  them,  swaying  their  fellows  and 
making  history,  subjects  of  kings  and  nobles,  yet 


The  Purpose  and  Aim  of  Story-Telling  5 

often  mightier  than  the  masters  who  held  their  des- 
tinies in  their  hands. 

The  power  of  the  narrator  did  not  die  with  chivalry. 
As  recently  as  during  the  middle  of  the  last  century 
the  clergy  of  Scotland  united  in  an  effort  to  suppress 
story-telling  in  the  Highlands  because  it  kept  alive 
beliefs  of  pagan  origin,  beliefs  so  deep-seated  that  the 
combined  eloquence  of  prelates  could  not  eradicate 
them,  and  the  strength  of  the  church  was  impaired 
because  of  the  sheltering  of  these  waifs  of  the  past. 
To  this  day  there  are  peasants  in  Germany  who  doubt 
not  that  every  year  at  harvest  time  Charlemagne 
walks  beside  the  Rhine  under  the  midnight  moon  and 
blesses  the  vineyard  region  of  Winkel  and  Ingelheim. 
In  central  Switzerland  are  hundreds  of  simple  folk 
who  believe  that  on  the  summit  where  they  met  to 
take  the  oath  that  fired  the  land  against  Austria, 
sleep  the  immortal  "Brothers  of  the  Griitli,"  and  that 
they  will  slumber  on  until  the  liberty  of  Helvetia  is 
imperiled ;  while  in  the  southern  portion  of  that  moun- 
tain land  the  country  folk  are  certain  that  prosperity 
will  be  the  lot  of  every  husbandman  when  the  swan- 
drawn  luck  boat  returns  to  Lake  Geneva.  Why? 
Because  their  fathers  in  the  far-off  days  believed  these 
tales;  because  they  have  come  down  to  them  by  the 
lips  of  the  story-teller,  and  wherever  there  is  no  written 
language,  wherever  the  people  are  too  unlettered  to 
read  what  is  written,  or  where  they  live  in  isolated 
communities  and  mingle  little  with  the  outside  world, 
they  still  believe  the  legends.  They  love  to  hear  them 
told  and  retold,  and  nothing  brings  so  much  pleasure  on  a 
winter  night  or  in  a  summer  gloaming  as  the  complete 


6  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

family  circle  and  the  father  or  uncle  or  stranger  from 
another  community  sitting  in  the  midst  repeating  the 
old,  old  tales. 

As  it  is  with  unlettered  peasants  today,  as  it  was 
with  tribesmen  in  primitive  times  and  with  the  great 
in  medieval  castle  halls,  it  still  is  with  the  child.  He 
lives  over  the  experience  of  his  fathers  on  the  Asiatic 
highlands  and  sits  entranced  listening  to  the  record 
of  it  in  stories.  The  element  of  suspense,  the  wonder- 
ing what  will  happen  next,  holds  him  in  a  viselike  grip, 
and  the  story  hour  is  to  him  a  period  of  joy.  The  here 
and  now  disappears  as  the  narrator  lifts  his  invisible 
wand,  and  the  listener  journeys  by  roads  of  never 
ceasing  wonders  into  lands  of  enchantment.  Accord- 
ing to  the  skill  of  the  raconteur,  and  the  vividness  with 
which  he  himself  sees  and  feels  the  pictures  he  strives 
to  portray,  he  makes  his  listeners  see  and  feel  them, 
rejoicing  in  the  good  fortune  and  sympathizing  in  the 
sorrows  of  the  just  and  righteous ;  and  they  not  only 
follow  along  the  highroad  where  he  leads  them,  but 
roam  off  into  pleasant  bypaths  where  the  fancy  has 
free  play. 

There  is  no  age  or  racial  limit  to  this  story  love. 
Representing,  as  it  does,  an  emotional  hunger  that 
is  the  human  heritage,  it  is  universal.  Several  years 
ago  at  Five  Points  in  New  York  City,  a  settlement 
worker  discovered  that  a  very  effective  means  of  gain- 
ing the  confidence  of  immigrant  women  was  to  tell 
fairy  tales,  and  recently  some  of  the  most  gratifying 
results  obtained  in  the  Telegraph  Hill  district  of  San 
Francisco  were  made  possible  by  a  leader  there  gaining 
the  good  will  of  a  group  of  Sicilian  hoodlums  because 


The  Purpose  and  Aim  of  Story-Telling  7 

she  knew  the  plot  of  Jerusalem  Delivered  and  told  the 
story  magnetically  and  well.  It  was  like  a  breeze  from 
their  native  island,  where  they  had  heard  it  from 
the  lips  of  the  village  story-teller  and  seen  it  pictured 
on  the  market  carts,  and  the  fact  that  she  knew  some- 
thing that  had  fascinated  them  gained  their  sympathy 
and  cooperation.  Those  who  have  even  a  limited 
knowledge  of  child  life  know  that  before  the  babe  can 
read  he  delights  in  listening  to  a  nursery  tale,  and  that 
even  after  he  journeys  into  bookland  he  is  more  in- 
terested in  the  story  told  him  than  in  the  one  he  reads 
for  himself.  Why?  Because  the  voice  and  person- 
ality of  the  speaker  make  it  alive  and  vital.  Because, 
as  Seumas  MacManus  says,  "The  spoken  word  is 
the  remembered  word." 

The  tales  heard  during  childhood  become  fixed  and 
lasting  possessions.  They  stay  with  the  hearer  through 
the  years,  and  because  their  ideals  become  his  ideals, 
do  much  toward  shaping  his  character.  The  child 
who  hears  many  good  stories  and  unconsciously  learns 
to  distinguish  between  the  tawdry  and  the  real,  reads 
good  stories  when  a  boy  and  becomes  a  man  for  whom 
sensational  best  sellers  have  no  charm. 

There  is  much  talk  about  the  vicious  tastes  of  the 
youth  of  this  generation,  and  unfavorable  comparisons 
between  them  and  their  elders  at  a  similar  age  are 
frequently  made.  There  is  some  foundation  for  this  be- 
lief, but  it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  children  that  it  is  so. 
Because  of  the  abundance  and  cheapness  of  books,  many 
of  them  of  questionable  merit,  boys  and  girls  are  left 
to  browse  unguided,  and  just  as  the  range  man  is 
to  blame  if  his  hungry  herd  strays  into  a  loco  patch 


8  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  eats  of  noxious  weeds  when  he  fails  to  drive  it  to 
the  place  of  wholesome  herbage,  so  it  is  the  fault  of 
parents  and  teachers  if  their  charges  acquire  a  taste  for 
sensational  yarns  instead  of  for  good  literature.  The 
very  hunger  that  impels  them  toward  that  which  con- 
taminates, if  satisfied  in  a  wholesome  manner  would 
make  them  lovers  of  the  best,  and  the  reason  why 
children  become  devourers  of  "yellow"  stories  is  be- 
cause they  have  failed  to  stumble  upon  a  more  fasci- 
nating and  less  dangerous  highway,  and  no  one  has 
led  them  to  it.  There  is  no  surer  way  of  keeping  a  boy 
from  becoming  a  devotee  of  the  funny  page  of  the 
Sunday  supplement  or  a  follower  of  "Nick  Carter" 
than  that  of  studying  his  tastes  and  giving  him  tales 
from  good  literature  that  will  satisfy  them.  There  is 
no  more  powerful  means  to  use  in  diverting  a  child 
from  the  undesirable  to  the  desirable  than  that  of 
throwing  a  searchlight  upon  the  attractions  of  the  latter 
and  presenting  them  to  him  through  joyful  experience. 
The  narrator's  art  is  in  truth  a  magic  luminary,  an  un- 
failing means  of  bringing  hidden  beauties  to  sight  and 
causing  them  to  be  loved  because  they  give  pleasure. 

For  a  number  of  years  it  has  been  conceded  that 
story-telling  is  of  value  in  the  kindergarten  and  pri- 
mary school,  but  little  provision  has  been  made  for 
it  in  the  educational  scheme  for  the  older  child.  Grad- 
ually, however,  educators  in  America  have  come  to 
realize  what  their  European  colleagues  realized  long 
ago,  that  the  narrator's  art  can  be  a  powerful  element 
in  the  mental,  moral,  and  religious  development  of 
the  boy  and  girl  and  can  mean  as  much  to  the  ado- 
lescent child  as  to  the  tiny  tot.  Consequently  they 


The  Purpose  and  Aim  of  Story-Telling  9 

are  now  giving  it  an  honored  place.  The  story 
period  has  become  a  part  of  the  program  of  every 
well-regulated  library.  Teachers  of  elementary  and 
grammar  grades  are  recognizing  its  value  in  the  class- 
room, and  in  some  states  story-telling  is  included  in  the 
curriculum.  Each  year  brings  new  texts  and  collec- 
tions from  the  publishers,  until  it  seems  that  the  art 
so  much  honored  in  the  past  is  coming  again  into  its 
own. 

Yet,  with  all  the  interest  that  is  manifested  through- 
out the  country,  story-telling  is  not  doing  its  greatest, 
most  vital  work,  because  so  little  thought  is  given  to 
the  selection  of  material,  so  little  study  to  the  response 
of  children  who  hear  the  tales  and  the  effect  upon  them. 
Before  even  half  of  its  possibilities  can  be  realized, 
those  who  tell  stories  must  know  the  story  interests 
of  childhood  and  must  choose  materials,  not  only  be- 
cause they  are  beautiful  in  theme  and  language  and 
embody  high  ideals,  but  because  they  are  fitted  to  the 
psychological  period  of  the  child  who  is  to  hear  them. 
They  must  realize  that  the  purpose  of  story-telling  is 
not  merely  to  entertain,  although  it  does  entertain, 
but  that  in  addition  to  delighting  young  listeners 
there  must  be  a  higher  aim,  of  which  the  narrator 
never  loses  sight.  Every  tale  selected  must  contrib- 
ute something  definite  toward  the  mental,  moral,  or 
spiritual  growth  of  the  child,  just  as  each  pigment 
chosen  by  an  artist  must  blend  into  the  picture  to  help 
make  a  beautiful  and  perfect  whole.  The  golden  age 
of  childhood  will  come  and  fear  that  young  people's 
tastes  are  being  vitiated  will  die  out  when  parents  and 
teachers  realize  that  much  of  the  noblest  culture  of  the 


10  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

past  has  been  given  through  the  medium  of  the  story, 
and  that  it  can  be  given  through  this  medium  now  and  in 
the  future,  because  there  is  almost  no  type  of  information 
the  child  should  receive  that  he  will  not  receive  joyously 
through  this  means,  and  with  deep,  lasting  results. 
Story-telling  planned  and  carried  out  to  fit  conditions 
will  help  to  solve  many  of  the  problems  that  confront 
educators  today.  Besides  developing  the  emotional 
nature  and  giving  moral  and  religious  instruction,  it 
will  intensify  the  interest  in  history,  geography,  nature 
study,  manual  training,  and  domestic  science,  awaken 
an  appreciation  of  literature,  art,  and  music,  enrich 
the  child's  powers  of  discrimination,  and  teach  him  to 
distinguish  between  the  cheap  and  ephemeral  and  the 
great  and  lasting.  It  will  help  to  eliminate  much  of 
what  he  considers  the  drudgery  of  school  life  and  give 
him  information  that  will  fit  him  for  broad,  sympa- 
thetic, useful  living. 

This  does  not  mean  that  the  teacher  is  to  do  all  the 
work,  thereby  fixing  children  in  habits  of  idleness, 
nor  does  it  mean  the  addition  of  an  extra  subject  to 
an  already  overcrowded  curriculum.  It  simply  means 
leading  the  child  to  do  things  for  himself  because  of 
the  incentive  that  interest  gives.  It  means  illuminat- 
ing the  formal  subjects  and  sending  pupils  to  them  with 
greater  eagerness. 

In  order  to  accomplish  these  ends,  story-telling  must 
be  unmarred  by  creaking  machinery,  and  it  must  be 
sympathetic.  The  narrator  must  rise  above  the  level 
of  a  mere  lesson  giver  and  approach  the  plane  of  the 
artist,  which  he  can  do  only  by  giving  an  artist's  prep- 
aration to  his  work.  The  old-time  raconteur  swayed 


The  Purpose  and  Aim  of  Story-Telling          11 

the  destiny  of  nations  because  he  was  an  artist,  be- 
cause he  himself  believed  in  the  message  he  brought. 
He  put  heart  and  labor  into  his  work,  which  gave  his 
words  a  sincerity  that  never  failed  to  convince.  So 
too  must  the  present-day  narrator  believe  in  the  power 
of  the  story  and  in  the  dignity  of  his  work,  and  he 
must  choose  material  with  thought  and  judgment 
instead  of  snatching  it  up  indifferently,  thinking  that 
any  story  will  do  if  only  it  holds  the  interest.  The 
racial  tales  should  be  given  freely  in  the  psychological 
period  to  which  they  belong,  but  not  the  racial  tales 
only.  There  is  much  modern  material  close  to  present- 
day  life  and  conditions,  without  which  the  child's 
education  is  not  complete,  and  it  must  be  classified  and 
graded.  This  entails  reference  work  for  which  the 
non-professional  has  neither  time  nor  opportunity, 
and  to  this  fact  is  due  much  of  the  valueless  story-tell- 
ing of  today.  Experience  with  hundreds  of  parents, 
teachers,  and  workers  with  children  has  brought  con- 
viction that  a  belief  in  the  value  of  story-telling  as  an 
educational  tool  is  sincere  and  general,  but  that  sources 
of  classified  material  are  not  available  to  the  average 
child  leader.  It  is  partly  to  meet  this  need  that  the 
present  work  is  planned. 


CHAPTER  TWO 
THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD 

A.  RHYTHMIC  PERIOD 

IF  the  work  of  the  narrator  is  to  be  of  real  value,  he 
must  have  a  knowledge  of  the  story  interests  of  child- 
hood, for  otherwise  the  talent  of  a  Scheherazade,  care- 
ful preparation,  and  an  extensive  repertoire  will  fail  to 
produce  the  desired  results,  because  a  narrative  that 
deals  with  mythical  heroes  cannot  make  a  lasting 
impression  upon  a  child  who  craves  animal  and  prim- 
itive wonder  tales,  even  though  it  be  written  in  lan- 
guage and  style  suited  to  his  understanding.  The  heart 
or  framework  of  the  story  must  be  made  up  of  events 
that  are  fraught  with  interest  in  his  particular  period 
of  mental  development,  and  must  introduce  personages 
with  whom  he  would  like  to  companion,  and  whose 
movements  he  will  follow  with  approval,  pity,  condem- 
nation, or  rejoicing.  Under  such  conditions  the  boys 
or  girls  or  dogs  who  contribute  to  the  action  of  the  tale 
are  not  strangers  out  of  a  book,  but  mean  as  much  to 
him  as  the  people  and  animals  he  knows,  and  because 
they  do  mean  much  he  lives  the  tale.  It  becomes 
part  of  him  and  he  of  the  story.  His  emotional  nature 
is  stirred,  his  power  of  evaluating  is  strengthened,  and 
some  of  the  foundation  blocks  of  character  are  laid. 

Naturally  the  question  arises,  "How  is  one  to  know 
which  tales  to  choose,  when  there  is  such  a  wealth  of 
stories  and  such  a  diversity  of  interests  ?  Is  there  any 
rule  or  guide  to  keep  the  conscientious  but  untrained 
worker  from  the  pitfalls  and  show  him  the  right  road 

12 


Story  Interests  in  Rhythmic  Period  13 

from  the  wrong?"  Such  a  guide  there  is  —  the  psy- 
chological axiom  that  the  child  between  birth  and 
maturity  passes  through  several  periods  or  stages  of 
mental  growth  which  determines  his  interests. 

The  little  child,  the  one  from  the  age  of  about  three 
to  six,  is  interested  in  familiar  things.  He  has  not 
yet  reached  the  period  of  fancy  during  which  he 
wanders  into  a  world  of  make-believe  and  revels 
with  fairies  and  nixies,  but  dwells  in  a  realm  of 
realism.  His  attention  is  centered  on  the  things 
and  the  personages  he  knows,  —  the  mother,  the 
father,  dogs,  cats,  pigs,  horses,  cows,  chickens,  and 
children  of  his  own  age,  —  and  consequently  he  en- 
joys stories  and  jingles  about  these  creatures.  He 
chuckles  over  the  accounts  of  their  merry  experiences 
and  sympathizes  with  them  in  their  misfortunes,  be- 
cause they  lie  close  to  his  interests.  This  is  why 
Mother  Goose  has  been  and  is  beloved  of  little  children. 
The  rhymes  do  not  introduce  griffins  and  ogres  and 
monsters  that  must  be  seen  through  eyes  of  fancy  to 
be  seen  at  all,  but  abound  in  accounts  of  creatures 
he  has  beheld  from  his  windows  and  associated  with 
in  his  home.  Mother  Hubbard  and  her  unfortunate 
dog,  the  crooked  man  and  his  grotesque  cat,  the  pigs 
that  went  to  market,  and  the  old  woman  in  the  shoe 
lie  close  to  his  world  because  he  knows  dogs  and  cats 
and  pigs  and  kind  old  women,  and  therefore  the  rhymes 
and  jingles  that  portray  them  are  dear  to  his  heart. 

Especially  fascinating  in  this  period  of  early  child- 
hood are  stories  that  contain  much  repetition.  "The 
Old  Woman  and  Her  Pig,"  "  Little  Red  Hen,"  "  Chicken 
Little,"  "The  Gingerbread  Man,"  and  "The  Three 


14  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Billy  Goats"  delight  little  people,  and  although  they 
have  heard  them  again  and  again  they  always  watch 
eagerly  for  the  "Fire,  fire,  burn  stick,"  "I  saw  it  with 
my  eyes,  I  heard  it  with  my  ears,  and  a  piece  of  it  fell 
on  my  tail,"  and  are  disappointed  if  the  well-known 
expressions  are  omitted.  The  repetition  strengthens 
the  dramatic  element  and  helps  to  make  the  pic- 
tures vivid,  and  the  child  loves  to  experience  again  the 
thrill  he  felt  upon  first  listening  to  the  tale. 

Stories  introducing  the  cries  and  calls  of  animals 
are  much  loved  at  this  period.  The  squealing  of  the 
pig,  the  barking  of  the  dog,  the  clucking  of  the  hen, 
and  the  quacking  of  the  duck  give  charm  to  a  narra- 
tive because  the  child  has  heard  those  sounds  in  his 
own  garden,  in  his  own  dooryard,  and  along  the  road, 
and  knowing  them,  is  interested  in  them.  This  is  the 
secret  of  the  success  of  many  kindergarten  tales  that 
fall  far  below  the  requirements  of  a  good  story.  Often 
almost  devoid  of  plot  and  lacking  in  suspense  element, 
still  they  hold  the  attention  because  of  the  animal 
cries  and  calls  they  contain.  The  little  hearer  chuckles 
as  the  baby  pig  squeals,  the  mother  pig  grunts,  or  the 
dog  barks,  and  listens  delightedly  to  what,  without 
these  cries  and  calls,  would  not  interest  him. 

This  too  is  why  the  racial  tales  fascinate  today 
just  as  they  fascinated  five  hundred  years  ago.  They 
have  a  clearly  defined  plot  that  of  itself  would  hold  the 
interest,  they  introduce  familiar  characters,  contain 
much  repetition,  and  abound  in  animal  cries  and  calls. 

Broadly  speaking,  then,  for  the  period  of  early  child- 
hood, the  time  of  realism  which  extends  from  the  age 
of  about  three  to  five  or  six,  the  narrator  should  choose 


Story  Interests  in  Rhythmic  Period  15 

stories  of  animal  and  child  life,  those  which  introduce 
sounds  peculiar  to  the  characters  and  which  abound 
in  repetition. 

But  he  should  not  make  the  mistake  of  following 
this  rule  too  literally  or  his  efforts  will  result  in  failure, 
because  children  live  under  widely  different  conditions. 
The  boy  of  the  city  slums,  whose  horizon  extends 
only  from  his  own  row  of  tenements  to  the  next  row 
up  the  street,  will  not  be  held  by  tales  of  cows  and  sheep, 
because  he  does  not  know  cows  and  sheep.  His  knowl- 
edge of  four-footed  creatures  is  confined  to  dogs  and 
cats  and  an  occasional  horse  that  goes  by  hitched  to 
the  wagon  of  a  fruit  or  vegetable  vender,  and  the  tales 
that  mean  something  to  him  are  those  of  animals  of 
his  world,  and  of  children.  Many  a  settlement  and 
social  worker  has  learned  the  truth  of  this  through 
sad  experience.  A  most  gifted  story-teller  in  a  New 
York  settlement  house  gave  to  her  group  "The  Ugly 
Duckling,"  and  gave  it  exquisitely  too,  but  it  meant 
nothing  to  the  children  because  they  never  had  been  in 
the  country.  A  barnyard  was  as  remote  from  their 
interest  as  a  treatise  on  philology  is  from  that  of  a  Fin- 
nish peasant.  They  did  not  know  ducks  and  geese 
and  chickens,  and  consequently  punched  their  neigh- 
bors and  grew  pestiferous  during  the  recital  of  a  tale 
that  would  have  entranced  country  children. 

The  same  mistake  was  made  by  a  professional 
story-teller  who  gave  a  coyote  tale  to  a  group  of  Italian 
children.  They  never  had  met  this  "outcast  in  gray," 
never  had  shivered  as  he  howled  in  the  night,  and  the 
story  brought  no  pictures  before  their  eyes.  They 
were  inattentive  and  disorderly  throughout  its  ren- 


16  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

dition,  and  the  narrator  declared  them  an  impossible 
group.  Yet  that  same  afternoon  a  college  girl  with 
no  special  training  in  story-telling  told  them  of  a  lost 
nanny  goat,  and  they  sat  fascinated.  In  the  first 
instance  the  trouble  was  not  with  the  children  but 
with  the  narrator.  She  knew  much  of  technique  but 
little  of  psychology  and  could  not  hold  the  children's 
attention,  while  the  other  girl,  possessed  of  far  less 
native  ability,  entertained  them  because  she  under- 
stood the  story  interests  of  childhood.  The  narrator 
must  have,  not  only  an  understanding  of  the  psycho- 
logical periods  and  interests  of  childhood,  but  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  environment  of  the  children  with  whom 
she  works. 

There  is  a  wealth  of  sources  from  which  to  draw  for 
this  early  period.  Often  it  is  necessary  to  adapt 
material,  because  many  a  tale  whose  framework  is 
suited  to  little  people  is  told  in  language  beyond  their 
understanding.  "David  and  Jonathan,"  by  Elizabeth 
Stuart  Phelps,  is  a  good  example.  Written  for  adults, 
yet  it  is  so  universal  in  its  appeal  that  the  lad  of  six 
listens  to  it  with  as  much  sympathy  as  his  father  or 
mother.  The  account  of  the  affection  of  dog  and  master 
for  each  other,  the  pathos  of  the  separation  and  the 
joy  of  the  reunion,  touch  him  as  much  as  they  touch 
his  parents,  and  to  receive  it  from  the  lips  of  one  who 
feels  and  loves  the  tale  will  make  him  kinder  to  dumb 
animals  and  gentler  to  the  aged. 

This  is  true  of  many  another  story  that  is  the  crea- 
tion of  an  artist.  I  mention  particularly  Ouida's 
"Dog  of  Flanders,"  John  Muir's  "Stickeen,"  and 
Ernest  Thompson  Seton's  "Monarch,  the  Big  Bear 


Story  Interests  in  Rhythmic  Period  17 

of  Tallac,"  each  of  which  I  have  used  with  children  of 
all  ages.  The  characters  in  them  are  living,  breathing 
creatures,  the  kind  that  if  met  in  real  life  would  arouse 
aifection  and  awaken  both  laughter  and  tears,  and 
whether  these  stories  are  told  in  monosyllabic  language 
or  colored  by  fine  rhetorical  effects,  they  strike  the 
tender  places  and  appeal  to  the  best.  When  the 
child  meets  Nello  before  the  altar  of  the  cathedral  in 
Antwerp,  kneeling  in  front  of  a  painting  by  Rubens 
and  fondling  his  dog,  he  instinctively  feels  that  this 
boy  is  not  a  stranger  living  in  a  far-away  land  and 
speaking  a  foreign  language,  but  that  he  represents 
all  the  orphaned  children  in  the  world,  and  that  his 
aifection  for  his  dog  is  the  same  tie  that  binds  every 
other  child  to  the  pet  he  loves.  So  too  with  Monarch, 
the  majestic  captive  of  Golden  Gate  Park.  He  is  not 
just  a  bear,  a  creature  larger  and  more  ferocious 
than  many  other  animals.  He  typifies  wild  life  caged, 
and  the  boy  who  has  pitied  him  in  listening  to  the 
account  of  his  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  about  the  pit, 
never  quite  forgets  that  proud  but  eternal  unrest, 
the  ever  present  longing  for  the  white  peaks  and  the 
pines. 

One  need  not  fear  that  putting  these  stories  into 
simple  language  may  be  deemed  a  sacrilegious  act, 
or  that  telling  the  plot  of  a  masterpiece  will  kill 
delight  in  that  masterpiece  itself.  Goethe's  mother, 
sitting  in  the  firelight  in  their  home,  gave  her  boy 
tales  from  the  old  poets,  creating  in  him  a  desire 
to  read  that  helped  to  make  him  a  profound  student 
and  master  thinker.  And  the  twentieth-century  child 
will  doubly  enjoy  reading  a  beautiful  piece  of  litera- 


18  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

lure  at  some  future  day,  because  in  the  magical 
long  ago  it  touched  his  heart.  Workers  with  little 
children  should  be  ever  on  the  alert,  seeking  stories 
that  deserve  the  name  of  literature,  with  plot  and 
characters  that  will  appeal  to  their  small  charges, 
because  such  stories  mold  a  child's  taste  and  give 
a  key  that  will  unlock  doors  into  the  great  treasure 
house  of  art.  Whenever  the  mother  or  teacher  or 
librarian  reads  a  story  that  is  a  literary  gem,  let 
her  analyze  it  and  determine  whether  or  not,  if  told 
in  simple  language,  it  would  delight  a  child.  The  old- 
time  narrators  who  molded  national  taste  and  ideals 
did  this  constantly,  and  the  great  story-tellers  are 
doing  it  today. 

Sicilian  peasants,  for  instance,  have  a  knowledge  of 
the  classics  that  amazes  the  average  American.  The 
stories  are  pictured  on  the  market  carts,  those  gaudy 
conveyances  that  brighten  the  island  highways  from 
Catania  to  Palermo,  and  the  conversation  of  these 
simple  folk  is  colored  with  allusions  that  would  do 
credit  to  a  professor  of  literature.  Most  of  them  can- 
not read,  but  they  know  the  plots  of  Jerusalem 
Delivered,  "Sindbad  the  Sailor,"  "The  Merchant  of 
Bagdad,"  and  many  more  of  the  world's  great  stories. 
They  heard  the  tales  in  childhood,  and  their  fathers 
before  them  heard  them  from  the  lips  of  men  who  loved 
to  tell  them,  and  so  they  have  become  a  national 
heritage.  Let  us  do  as  much  for  the  children  of  our 
land,  that  the  men  and  women  of  the  future  may 
have  a  noble  culture  and  more  splendid  possessions 
than  their  parents  have,  and  let  us  do  it  in  the  world- 
old  way,  by  story-telling. 


Story  Interests  in  Rhythmic  Period  19 

SOURCES  OF  STORY  MATERIAL  FOR  THE  RHYTHMIC  PERIOD 

ADAMS,  WILLIAM  :   Fables  and  Rhymes  —  Msop  and  Mother  Goose. 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN  :  Firelight  Stories. 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN,  and  LEWIS,  CLARA:  For  the  Children1 1 

Hour. 

BRYCE,  CATHERINE  T. :   That's  Why  Stories. 
BURNHAM,  MAUD:  Descriptive  Stories  for  All  the  Year. 
COOKE,  FLORA  J. :  Nature  Myths  and  Stories  for  Little  Children. 
DAVIS,  MARY  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG  :  Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories. 
DILLEVGHAM,  ELIZABETH,  and  EMERSON,  A-DELLE :    "  Tell  It  Again" 

Stories. 

HARRISON,  ELIZABETH  :  In  Story-land. 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  'Round  the  Year  in  Myth  and  Song. 
HOXIE,  JANE  :  A  Kindergarten  Story  Book. 
JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :   The  Book  of  Knight  and  Barbara. 
LINDSAY,  MAUD:  Mother  Stories;  More  Mother  Stories. 
MILLER,  OLIVE  THORNE  :    True  Bird  Stories. 
MILTON  BRADLEY  COMPANY  :  Half  a  Hundred  Stories. 
MOULTON,  LOUISE  CHANDLER  :  Bed-lime  Stories. 
PIERSON,  CLARA  D. :  Among  the  Farmyard  People. 
POULSSON,  EMILJE  :  Child  Stories  and  Rhymes. 
RICHARDS,   LAURA  E. :    The  Golden  Windows;    Five-Minute  Stories; 

The  Pig  Brother. 

SKINNER,  ADA  M. :  Stories  of  Wakeland  and  Dreamland. 
VERHOEFF,  CAROLYN  :  All  about  Johnnie  Jones. 
WIGGIN,  KATE  DOUGLAS,  and  SMITH,  NORA  A. :   The  Children1 1  Hour. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  (Continued) 

B.     IMAGINATIVE   PERIOD 


HEN  the  child  leaves  the  rhythmic,  realistic  period 
V  V  he  enters  a  world  of  make-believe  and  no  longer 
desires  tales  and  jingles  that  are  nothing  more  than  a 
recounting  of  facts  he  already  knows.  He  delights  in  play- 
ing he  is  some  one  other  than  himself,  in  pretending  he  is 
doing  things  beyond  the  range  of  his  possibilities,  and 
because  he  craves  a  larger  experience  he  craves  also 
fanciful,  imaginative  tales  in  which  he  may  have  those 
experiences.  He  knows  that  bees  sting,  that  the  dog 
has  a  cold,  wet  nose,  that  the  cat  lands  on  its  feet,  and 
the  squirrel  holds  its  tail  up.  He  wonders  about  these 
things,  but  he  is  still  too  limited  in  experience  and  in 
mental  capacity  to  give  them  real  theoretical  meaning. 
Consequently  he  enjoys  the  wonder  tale,  or,  as  some 
authorities  term  it,  the  "primitive-  why  story."  Early 
racial  tales  are  those  of  forest  and  plain,  varying  accord- 
ing to  the  locality  in  which  they  originated,  from  the  lion 
and  tiger  stories  of  India  and  Central  Africa  to  the 
kangaroo  fables  of  the  Australian  aborigine. 

Primitive  man  through  fear  and  fancy  personified  the 
forces  of  nature  and  gave  them  human  attributes,  and 
because  they  were  less  tangible  than  the  creatures  of 
jungle  and  plain  that  figured  in  his  earliest  fables,  his 
mind  visioned  them  as  fantastic  beings,  sometimes 
lovely  and  sometimes  grotesque,  fairies  and  goblins,  de- 
structive monsters  and  demons,  and  avenging  giants  who 
preserved  him  from  that  which  he  feared.  Thus  origi- 

20 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  21 

nated  the  fairy  story  that  was  the  expression  of  his 
religion.  The  child  enjoys  these  tales. 

The  narrator  can  gather  this  material  with  compara- 
tive ease,  because  the  science  of  ethnology  has  brought 
to  light  many  of  these  tales  from  primitive  literature, 
and  not  a  few  of  them  have  been  put  into  collections 
available  to  child  workers. 

The  fairy  tale  that  grew  out  of  the  life  of  the  race  is 
also  rich  in  material  for  children  of  this  period.  By 
"fairy  tale"  is  meant  that  type  of  story  usually  asso- 
ciated with  the  names  of  Grimm,  Perrault,  and  Bech- 
stein.  Little  people  delight  in  it,  and  will  listen  to  it 
again  and  again.  Yet  because  of  lack  of  understanding 
on  the  part  of  parents  and  teachers,  the  fairy  story 
often  proves  to  be  the  rock  upon  which  the  child  craft 
meets  disaster.  Because  these  tales  have  had  a  mighty 
place  in  the  history  of  the  race  and  still  have  their  work 
in  the  education  of  the  child,  it  does  not  follow  that  they 
should  be  fed  to  young  listeners  as  so  much  unassorted 
grain  is  fed  to  chickens.  There  are  many  that  should 
not  be  used  at  all.  Those  that  are  used  should  be  care- 
fully graded,  because  a  child  will  enjoy  a  narrative  in 
which  children  are  heroes,  long  before  he  enjoys  one  in 
which  adults  hold  the  center  of  the  stage.  The  father 
and  mother,  brothers,  sisters,  uncles,  cousins,  and 
aunts  mean  much  to  him  because  they  are  part  of  his 
experience.  But  he  does  not  know  officers  of  the  state 
and  nation.  He  does  not  know  lawmakers  and  magis- 
trates and  judges,  and  tales  in  which  they  have  a  part 
are  less  interesting  to  him  than  those  whose  characters 
are  familiar  personages.  For  instance,  he  is  charmed 
by  "Little  Red  Hen"  or  "The  Three  Bears"  at  an  age 


22  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

when  "Beauty  and  the  Beast"  or  "Sleeping  Beauty" 
mean  little  to  him,  and  a  good  rule  to  guide  the  story- 
teller in  the  grading  of  fairy  tales  is  the  well-known 
pedagogical  one,  "Proceed  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known, from  the  simple  to  the  complex."  Give  first 
those  stories  whose  heroes  are  familiar  personages,  then 
introduce  those  with  characters  not  so  well  known. 

The  mention  of  fairy  tales  in  education  often  raises 
the  question,  "Is  there  not  danger  of  making  liars  of 
children  by  feeding  them  on  these  stories?"  It  seems 
to  me  the  best  answer  is  given  by  Georg  Ebers,  the 
Egyptologist  and  novelist,  in  his  fascinating  autobiog- 
raphy, The  Story  of  My  Life.  Out  of  his  own  ex- 
perience, he  handles  the  subject  of  fairy  tales  sincerely 
and  convincingly,  and  his  words  are  worthy  of  consid- 
eration by  every  child  worker. 

"When  the  time  for  rising  came,"  he  says,  "  I  climbed 
joyfully  into  my  mother's  warm  bed,  and  never  did  I 
listen  to  more  beautiful  fairy  tales  than  at  those  hours. 
They  became  instinct  with  life  to  me  and  have  always 
remained  so.  How  real  became  the  distress  of  perse- 
cuted innocence,  the  terrors  and  charm  of  the  forest,  the 
joys  and  splendors  of  the  fairy  realm !  If  the  flowers 
in  the  garden  had  raised  their  voices  in  song,  if  the  birds 
on  the  boughs  had  called  and  spoken  to  me,  nay,  if  a 
tree  had  changed  into  a  beautiful  fairy  or  the  toad  in 
the  damp  path  of  our  shaded  avenue  into  a  witch,  it 
would  have  been  only  natural. 

"It  is  a  singular  thing  that  actual  events  which  hap- 
pened in  those  early  days  have  largely  vanished  from 
my  memory,  but  the  fairy  tales  I  heard  and  secretly 
experienced  became  firmly  impressed  on  my  mind. 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  23 

Education  and  life  provided  for  my  familiarity  with 
reality  in  all  its  harshness  and  angles,  its  strains  and 
hurts,  but  who,  in  those  later  years,  could  have  flung 
wide  the  gates  of  the  kingdom  where  everything  is 
beautiful  and  good,  and  where  ugliness  is  as  surely 
doomed  to  destruction  as  evil  to  punishment  ?  There- 
fore I  plead  with  voice  and  pen  in  behalf  of  fairy  tales. 
Therefore  I  give  them  to  my  children  and  grandchildren 
and  have  even  written  a  volume  of  them  myself. 

"All  sensible  mothers  will  doubtless,  like  ours,  take 
care  that  the  children  do  not  believe  the  stories  which 
they  tell  them  to  be  true.  I  do  not  remember  any  time 
when,  if  my  mind  had  been  called  upon  to  decide,  I 
should  have  thought  anything  I  invented  myself  really 
happened;  but  I  know  that  we  were  often  unable  to 
distinguish  whether  the  plausible  tale  invented  by  some 
one  else  belonged  to  the  realm  of  fact  or  fiction.  On 
such  occasions  we  appealed  to  my  mother,  and  her 
answer  instantly  set  all  doubts  at  rest,  for  we  thought 
she  could  never  be  mistaken  and  knew  that  she  always 
told  the  truth. 

"As  to  the  stories  I  invented  myself,  I  fared  like  other 
imaginative  children.  I  could  imagine  the  most  mar- 
velous things  about  every  member  of  the  household, 
and  while  telling  them,  but  only  during  that  time,  I 
often  fancied  they  were  true.  Yet  the  moment  I  was 
asked  whether  these  things  had  actually  occurred,  it 
seemed  that  I  woke  from  a  dream.  I  at  once  separated 
what  I  imagined  from  what  I  actually  experienced,  and 
it  never  would  have  occurred  to  me  to  persist  against 
my  better  knowledge.  So  the  vividly  awakened 
power  of  imagination  led  neither  me,  my  brothers 


24  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  sisters,  nor  my  children  and  grandchildren  into 
falsehood." 

Dr.  Ebers'  words  are  based  on  sound  psychology. 
The  child's  imaginative  nature  should  be  developed, 
but  there  should  never  be  any  doubt  in  his  mind  as  to 
what  is  make-believe  and  what  is  real.  Let  him  wander 
at  will  through  every  realm  of  fancy,  along  its  sun-kissed 
highways,  among  its  shadowy  glens  and  wild  cascades, 
but  let  him  realize  it  is  a  world  of  make-believe,  not  of 
fact,  which  he  inhabits  during  that  period.  His  imagi- 
nation will  be  as  much  aroused,  his  emotional  nature 
will  be  stirred  as  deeply,  and  there  will  be  no  discovery 
later  that  his  mother  or  teacher  deceived  him,  no  temp- 
tation to  present  as  fact  what  he  knows  to  be  purely 
fancy,  which  is  a  certain  step  toward  the  field  of  false- 
hood. If  he  questions  whether  a  fairy  story  is  true  or 
not,  tell  him,  "  No,  but  once  upon  a  time  people  thought 
it  was  true,"  and  picture  how  the  early  tribesmen  sat 
around  the  fire  at  night  listening  to  tales  told  by  some 
of  their  wise  men,  just  as  Indians  and  Eskimos  do  to 
this  day.  It  will  make  him  sympathetic  toward  the 
struggles  of  his  remote  forefathers,  and  he  will  not 
think  the  narrator  tried  to  dupe  him,  nor  will  he 
regard  the  narrative  itself  as  a  silly  yarn.  It  will  be  a 
dignified  tale  to  him  because  it  was  believed  in  the  long 
ago. 

Since  we  can  give  only  according  to  the  measure  in 
which  we  possess,  whoever  teDs  fairy  stories  to  children 
ought  to  know  something  of  their  history  and  meaning. 
He  should  have  some  understanding  of  how  they  have 
come  from  the  depths  of  the  past  to  their  present  form, 
some  idea  of  the  work  of  notable  collectors,  and  some 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  25 

insight  into  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  science 
of  folklore. 

There  are  several  theories  about  the  origin  of  these 
tales,  the  first  and  oldest  being  that  they  are  sun  myths 
and  can  be  traced  back  to  the  Vedas,  and  the  exponents 
of  this  belief  offer  many  arguments  to  prove  the  truth  of 
their  contention.  The  similarity  of  tales  found  among 
people  of  widely  separated  regions,  they  claim,  is  evi- 
dence that  they  must  have  come  from  a  common  source. 
"Little  Half-Chick,"  a  Spanish  folk  tale,  is  found  in 
slightly  different  dress  among  the  Kabyles  of  Africa; 
"  Cinderella,"  in  some  form  or  other,  is  common  to  every 
country  of  Europe  and  to  several  oriental  lands ;  while 
the  Teutonic  tale  of  "Brier  Rose"  and  the  French  of 
"Sleeping  Beauty"  are  modifications  of  the  same  conte. 
Therefore,  the  orientalists  contend,  they  must  have  come 
from  a  common  source  and  have  been  modified  to  suit 
conditions  of  life  in  lands  to  which  they  were  carried. 

Another  theory  is  that  all  European  fairy  tales  are 
remnants  of  the  old  mythology  of  the  north,  the  nucleus 
of  the  stories  having  been  carried  abroad  by  the  Vikings, 
while  still  another  theory,  the  most  notable  advocate 
of  which  was  the  late  Andrew  Lang,  traces  fairy  tales 
to  the  practices  and  customs  of  early  man  and  a  totem- 
istic  belief  in  man's  descent  from  animals. 

Then  there  are  those  also  who  contend  that  fairy  tales 
are  primitive  man's  philosophy  of  nature,  his  explana- 
tion of  the  working  of  forces  he  did  not  understand. 
The  adherents  of  this  theory  admit  the  similarity  of 
tales  found  among  different  tribes,  but  claim  that  the 
incidents,  which  are  few,  and  the  characters,  who  are 
types,  might  occur  anywhere.  In  the  French  story 


$6  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

of  "Blue  Beard"  and  the  Greek  tale  of  "Psyche"  curi- 
osity leads  to  destruction  —  in  the  one  case  of  life,  in 
the  other  of  happiness.  In  the  French  "  Diamonds  and 
Toads,"  the  Teutonic  "Snow  White  and  the  Seven 
Dwarfs,"  and  the  Bohemian  "The  Twelve  Months," 
selfishness  brings  punishment  and  kindness  reward, 
while  the  cruel  stepmother,  the  good  prince,  and  the 
fairy  godmother  are  common  to  tales  of  every  nation. 

But  however  authorities  disagree  as  to  the  origin 
of  these  stories,  they  unite  in  declaring  them  to  be  one 
of  the  oldest  forms  of  literature.  The  first  collection  of 
fairy  tales  of  which  we  have  any  record  was  published 
in  Venice  in  i55o  by  Straparola,  and  was  a  translation 
of  stories  from  oriental  sources.  From  Italian  the  book 
was  done  into  French  and,  for  those  early  days  when 
books  were  rare  and  costly,  had  a  wide  circulation.  For 
almost  a  century  this  was  the  only  collection  of  fairy 
tales  in  existence.  Then,  in  1687,  a  book  was  published 
in  Naples,  //  Pentamerone,  which  Keightley  declares  is 
the  best  collection  of  fairy  tales  ever  written.  The 
stories  were  told  in  the  Neapolitan  dialect  and  were 
drawn  from  Sicily,  Candia,  and  Italy  proper,  where 
Giambattista  Basile  had  gathered  them  from  the  people 
during  years  of  wandering. 

About  sixty  years  later,  in  a  magazine  published  at 
The  Hague,  appeared  a  story,  "La  Belle  au  Bois  Dor- 
mant," by  Charles  Perrault,  which  was  none  other  than 
the  tale  we  know  as  "Sleeping  Beauty."  It  did  not 
originate  with  Perrault,  but  had  been  told  him  in  child- 
hood by  his  nurse,  who  was  a  peasant  from  Picardy. 
A  year  later  seven  other  stories  appeared,  "  Red  Riding 
Hood,"  "Blue  Beard,"  "Puss  in  Boots,"  "The  Fairy," 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  87 

"Cinderella,"  "Riquet  o'  the  Tuft,"  and  "Hop  o'  My 
Thumb."  They  were  published  under  the  title,  Conies 
du  Temps  Passe  avec  Moralitts,  and  signed,  "P.  Dar- 
mancour."  Darmancour  was  a  stepson  of  Perrault, 
and  wrote  them  at  the  older  man's  request  from  the 
nurse's  tales;  so  they  live  in  literature  as  Perrault's 
work.  After  this  French  collector  came  the  German 
scholars,  the  Grimms,  who  gathered  and  preserved 
the  folklore  of  the  Thuringian  peasants;  Goethe,  the 
Sage  of  Weimar ;  Madame  Villeneuve ;  Ruskin ;  An- 
drew Lang ;  and  several  others.  Each  of  these  added 
to  the  work  begun  by  Straparola  and  Basile,  until  now 
we  have  tales  from  almost  every  nation,  tales  proving 
that  a  belief  in  the  supernatural  is  common  to  primitive 
people  in  every  clime. 

Another  aspect  wonderfully  interesting  in  the  study  of 
fairy  tales  is  the  distinctive  features  of  those  of  different 
regions,  which  are  so  marked  that  they  can  be  classified 
according  to  the  locality  and  topography  of  the  region 
in  which  they  originated.  The  largest  number  of  these 
supernatural  beliefs  is  found  among  nations  whose  scen- 
ery is  wild  and  rugged,  where  there  are  mountains, 
morasses,  dangerous  cataracts,  and  tempestuous  oceans, 
while  in  flat,  cultivated  countries  away  from  the  sea  the 
fairy  superstition  is  not  so  strong  and  the  tales  are 
less  fantastic.  This  fact  argues  powerfully  in  favor  of 
the  Aryan  theory  that  they  are  primitive  man's  philos- 
ophy of  nature,  the  expression  of  his  religion,  and  some 
educators  claim  that  as  they  were  religious  stories  to  the 
race,  they  still  are  religious  to  the  child. 

Whether  this  theory  is  accepted  or  refuted,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  a  thinking  person  that  if 


28  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

fairy  tales  are  given  to  children  they  should  be  given 
intelligently  and  with  discrimination.  The  narrator 
should  exercise  care  in  their  selection,  and  have  some 
fixed  principles  to  govern  that  selection,  because  of  the 
quantity  and  doubtful  literary  and  ethical  quality  of 
much  juvenile  material. 

Many  modern  fairy  stories  are  not  fit  to  give  to  chil- 
dren. In  selecting  fanciful  tales  for  this  period  of 
childhood,  choose  first  of  all  the  old  ones,  those  that 
originated  in  the  childhood  of  the  race,  the  stories  of 
Grimm,  Perrault,  and  Bechstein.  They  have  stood 
the  test  of  the  ages.  They  are  expressed  in  beautiful 
language,  they  create  ideals  and  arouse  inspiration, 
they  feed  and  satisfy. 

There  are  some  fairy  tales  of  later  origin  that  are  the 
works  of  great  writers  and  deserve  the  name  of  literature. 
First  on  this  list  come  those  of  Hans  Christian  Andersen. 
"The  Three  Bears"  of  Robert  Southey  is  another  good 
example,  and  sometimes  we  find  floating  through  mag- 
azines and  in  books  of  recent  issue,  fairy  tales  that  are 
excellent  ones  to  give  to  children,  because  they  have 
all  the  elements  of  the  racial  tales.  Notable  among 
these  is  "The  Wonder  Box"  by  Will  Bradley.  But, 
if  there  be  any  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the  narrator 
about  the  merit  of  modern  stories,  he  had  better  elimi- 
nate them  from  his  list  and  use  only  those  that  have 
stood  the  test  of  the  ages. 

However,  even  among  racial  tales  the  narrator  will 
come  upon  pitfalls  unless  judgment  mark  his  selec- 
tion. The  conditions  governing  his  struggle  for  exist- 
ence gave  primitive  man  a  harsh  standard,  and  conse- 
quently his  literature  is  often  tinged  with  a  vindictive 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  29 

spirit  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  the  ideals  of  today. 
Stories  in  which  cruelty,  revenge,  and  bloodshed  have 
a  large  part  should  never  be  told  to  the  young  child,  no 
matter  what  their  age  or  origin.  "Blue  Beard"  is  a 
good  example.  Although  itself  a  classic,  and  a  recital 
of  the  deeds  of  a  French  ruler  whose  name  is  a  syno- 
nym of  infamy,  this  tale  and  all  similar  tales  should 
be  tabooed  from  the  world  of  little  people. 

Charles  Dickens  was  the  first  man  in  England  whose 
voice  carried  weight  to  plead  for  fairy  tales  as  a  part 
of  the  school  curriculum,  and  within  a  few  years  Dickens 
found  it  necessary  to  oppose  the  usage  of  stories  that 
were  corrupting  the  children  of  the  British  Isles.  Be- 
cause they  were  urged  to  tell  fairy  tales,  unthinking 
teachers  told  any  that  they  found,  even  those  in  which 
all  the  savagery  of  early  man  was  portrayed.  Accounts 
of  beheadings  and  man-eatings  became  part  of  the 
daily  program,  and  many  acts  of  cruelty  among  children 
were  traceable  to  these  stories.  Instead  of  teaching 
forbearance,  courtesy,  consideration  of  the  poor  and 
aged,  and  abhorrence  of  brute  force,  which  the  wisely 
chosen  fairy  tale  will  do,  story-telling  was  turning  the 
children  into  young  savages.  If  the  dominant  element 
in  a  story  is  cruelty,  strike  that  tale  from  the  list; 
for  even  though  the  deed  be  punished  in  the  end,  the 
fact  that  the  attention  of  an  unkind  child  is  focused  upon 
cruel  acts  often  leads  him  to  experiment  and  see  what 
will  happen.  And  I  plead  also  for  the  elimination  from 
the  story-teller's  list  of  every  tale  in  which  an  unkind 
or  drunken  parent  plays  a  part,  even  though  the  tale 
itself  be  a  literary  gem.  The  father  or  mother  is  the 
child's  ideal,  and  it  is  not  the  mission  of  the  narrator 


30  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

to  shatter  that  ideal.  Even  if  little  folk  have  dis- 
covered that  there  are  delinquent  parents  in  the  world, 
it  is  a  mental  shock  to  have  that  fact  emphasized,  and 
the  story  that  shocks  in  any  way  had  better  be  left  un- 
told. 

Sometimes  the  elimination  or  modification  of  a  cruel 
feature  of  a  tale  makes  it  suitable  for  telling  to  children, 
as  in  "Hansel  and  Gretel."  The  ending  Humperdinck 
uses  in  his  opera,  wherein  the  old  witch  turns  to  ginger- 
bread instead  of  being  baked  in  the  oven  by  the  orphans, 
is  far  better  ethically  than  the  original  one,  yet  the  ele- 
mental part  of  the  story  is  left  unspoiled.  Narrators 
cannot  be  too  careful  in  this  respect ;  for  the  function 
of  story-telling  is  to  refine  rather  than  to  brutalize,  to 
give  pleasure  and  not  to  shock,  and  there  is  no  excuse 
for  using  tales  that  corrupt  or  injure  in  any  way  when 
there  are  enough  lovely  ones  to  satisfy  every  normal 
desire  of  the  child.  Let  the  test  of  selection  be  the  ques- 
tion, Does  this  story  contain  an  element  or  picture  that 
will  shock  a  sensitive  child  or  whet  the  cruel  tendencies 
of  a  rough,  revengeful  one  ?  If  it  does,  do  not  use  it 
even  though  the  list  of  fairy  tales  may  be  reduced  to 
a  very  limited  one,  but  choose  the  other  material  for 
this  period  from  the  lore  of  science  that  will  feed  the 
fancy  and  not  warp  the  soul  or  distort  the  character. 
(See  Part  II,  Chapter  XVI,  "  Story-Telling  to  Intensify 
Interest  in  Nature  Study.") 


Story  Interests  in  Imaginative  Period  31 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  FAIRY  TALES 

ANDERSEN,  HANS  CHRISTIAN  :    Wonder  Stories  Told  to  Children. 
AsBJ0RNSEN,  PETER  CHRISTEN  :   Fairy  Tales  from  the  Far  North. 
BALLARD,  SUSAN  :  Fairy  Tales  from  Far  Japan. 
BLUMENTHAL,  VERRA  X.  K.  DE  :  Folk  Tales  from  the  Russian. 
BUNCE,  JOHN  THACKERAY:  Fairy  Tales:   Their  Origin  and  Meaning. 
CHODZKO,  ALEXANDER  E.  B. :    Fairy  Tales  of  the  Slav  Peasants  and 

Herdsmen. 

CROKER,  THOMAS  CROFTON  :    Legends  and  Fairy  Tales  of  Ireland. 
CURTIN,  JEREMIAH:    Myths  and  Folk  Tales  of  the  Russians,  Western 

Slavs,  and  Magyars. 

DUMAS,  ALEXANDRE:  Black  Diamonds;   The  Golden  Fairy  Book. 
EDWARDS,  CHARLES  LINCOLN  :  Bahama  Songs  and  Stories. 
FORTIER,  ALCEE  :  Louisiana  Folk  Tales. 
GRAVES,  ALFRED  PERCEVAL  :   The  Irish  Fairy  Book. 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :   German  Household  Tales. 
HAIGHT,  RACHEL  WEBB  :  Index  of  Fairy  Tales. 
HARTLAND,  E.  SIDNEY  :    The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales. 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH:  Europas  Fairy  Book;    English  Fairy  Tales;    Celtic 

Fairy  Tales. 

KEIGHTLEY,  THOMAS  :  Fairy  Mythology. 
KENNEDY,  HOWARD  ANGUS  :    The  New  World  Fairy  Book. 
LABOULAYE,  EDOUARD  RENE  :   The  Fairy  Book;  Last  Fairy  Tales. 
LANG,  ANDREW:   The  Blue  Fairy  Book;   The  Orange  Fairy  Book;   The 

Lilac  Fairy  Book;   The  Green  Fairy  Book;   The  Yellow  Fairy  Book; 

The  Red  Fairy  Book. 

MACDONNELL,  ANNE  :   The  Italian  Fairy  Book. 
MACMANUS,  SEUMAS  :   Donegal  Fairy  Stories. 
MITFORD,  FREEMAN  :   Tales  of  Old  Japan. 
OZAKI,  YEI  THEODORA  :  Japanese  Fairy  Tales. 
PERRAULT,  CHARLES:    Tales  for  Children  from  Many  Lands. 
PYLE,  HOWARD  :   The  Wonder  Clock. 
RAMASWAMI  RAJU  :  Indian  Fables. 
SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :   The  Children's  Book. 
SHARMAN,  LYON  :  Bamboo :  Tales  of  the  Orient-born. 
SKEAT,  WALTER  W. :  Fables  and  Folk  Tales  from  an  Eastern  Forest. 
STANLEY,  HENRY  M. :   My  Dark  Companions  and  Their  Strange  Stories. 
STEELE,  FLORA  A. :   Tales  from  the  Punjab. 
TAPPAN,  EVA  MARCH  :   The  Golden  Goose. 
WILLISTON,  TERESA  :  Japanese  Fairy  Tales. 
WRATISLAW,  A.  H. :  Slavonian  Fairy  Tales. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  (Continued) 

C.    HEROIC   PERIOD 

WHEN  the  child  leaves  the  imaginative  period,  he 
enters  another  realm  of  realism.  The  fairy 
world  is  no  longer  a  place  of  enchantment  to  him.  He 
is  now  in  a  condition  corresponding  to  that  of  primitive 
man  when  he  was  not  satisfied  to  sit  by  the  tribal  fire  and 
listen  to  stories  about  creatures  who  personified  the 
elements,  but  fared  forth  on  the  path  of  adventure,  eager 
to  know  what  lay  beyond  the  lodge  place  of  his  people, 
feverish  with  desire  to  conquer  and  remove  whatever 
obstructed  his  way.  The  barbaric,  fighting  instinct 
manifests  itself,  and  in  many  children  a  destructive 
curiosity  is  apparent.  They  long  to  repeat  the  experi- 
ences of  their  ancestors  in  this  same  period.  They 
want  to  live  through  nights  of  danger  and  days  of  dar- 
ing, and  since  the  juvenile  court  and  probation  officers 
hover  Argus-eyed  about  them,  ready  to  swoop  down 
upon  every  lad  who  would  go  pirating  or  pathfinding, 
the  nearest  approach  to  the  experience  consists  in  lis- 
tening to  and  in  reading  tales  of  adventure.  This  age 
is  usually  from  about  eight  to  twelve,  although  there 
are  no  tightly  drawn  lines  of  demarcation.  Individual 
cases  differ,  and  some  children  of  ten  are  still  delighted 
by  fairy  tales,  while  other  lads  of  seven  are  well  into  the 
heroic  period.  Broadly  speaking,  however,  this  period 
begins  about  the  age  of  eight. 

There  is  no  time  in  the  child  life  during  which  the 
story-teller  has  a  finer  opportunity  of  sowing  seeds  that 

32 


Story  Interests  in  Heroic  Period  33 

shall  come  into  splendid  fruition  by  and  by  than  in  the 
heroic  period,  and  because  parents  and  teachers  do 
not  realize  this  fact  clearly  enough,  boys  read  stories 
whose  tendency  is  to  brutalize  and  lead  them  into 
trouble.  It  does  not  follow,  because  they  are  drawn 
as  steel  to  steel  to  such  literature,  that  the  boys  are  de- 
praved. They  crave  action,  danger,  daring.  It  is  a 
cry  of  nature  that  cannot  be  silenced,  and  because  the 
hunger  is  not  satisfied  in  a  wholesome  way,  they  go 
where  they  can  find  the  food  they  must  have,  for 
numerous  doors  are  open  to  them. 

Dozens  of  writers  are  doing  pernicious  work  for  the 
youth  of  the  country  by  pouring  forth  a  flood  of 
adventure  stories,  perhaps  not  with  malicious  intent, 
but  with  the  little  knowledge  that  often  brings  dire 
results.  Knowing  the  demand  for  the  heroic,  they 
write  yarns  whose  only  claim  to  recognition  is  a  clever, 
spectacular  plot.  These  books  embody  no  ideals,  and 
the  aspirations  they  arouse  had  better  be  left  to  slum- 
ber. Sometimes,  as  a  result  of  such  reading,  boys  run 
away  from  home  to  fight  Indians  or  turn  pirate,  and 
many  a  lad  has  begun  a  career  of  lawlessness  ending 
in  crime,  who  with  a  little  direction  might  have  been  an 
individual  of  value  to  the  world.  Such  cases  are  so 
common  that  they  have  come  under  the  notice  of  almost 
every  child  worker,  and  the  pity  of  it  is  that  literature 
is  rich  in  tales  that  satisfy  the  adventure  craving,  yet 
arouse  high  ideals  and  inspire  to  worth-while  deeds. 
Instead  of  originating  in  the  brain  of  some  modern 
craftsman  who  is  actuated  by  a  desire  for  money- 
making,  they  grew  out  of  the  life  of  the  race  and 
perpetuate  the  noblest  traditions  of  the  race. 


34  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Human  nature  is  much  the  same  in  all  climes  and  in 
all  ages.  Until  man  reaches  a  very  high  state  of  en- 
lightenment he  is  more  thrilled  by  manifestations  of 
physical  bravery  than  by  mental  and  moral  courage, 
and  he  who  possesses  muscular  strength  is  the  hero  in 
his  eyes.  A  Hercules  or  Samson  is  mightier  to  him  than 
a  Savonarola  facing  persecution  with  sublime  tenacity 
of  purpose  and  dying  steadfast  to  his  ideal,  because 
he  can  understand  the  brute  strength  of  the  one,  while 
the  spiritual  fortitude  of  the  other  is  beyond  his  compre- 
hension. He  is  thrilled  by  action,  physical  action,  and 
he  craves  and  will  have  literature  every  page  of  which  is 
colored  by  feats  of  prowess. 

It  is  useless  to  try  to  substitute  something  else  for 
children  in  this  period.  When  we  hunger  for  bread 
and  meat,  after-dinner  mints  will  not  satisfy,  even 
though  they  be  very  delectable  confections.  This 
ravenous  appetite  of  boys  and  girls  must  be  satisfied, 
and  if  they  are  to  grow  into  well-balanced  men  and 
women  we  must  feed  it  with  wholesome  food  instead 
of  allowing  them  to  roam  unguided  and  eat  of  that  which 
poisons. 

There  is  no  finer  adventure  tale  in  any  literature  than 
that  of  Robin  Hood,  none  more  satisfying  to  children 
in  the  early  heroic  period.  This  statement  often  brings 
a  cry  of  remonstrance,  and  the  objection  is  made  that 
there  is  danger  in  portraying  an  outlaw  as  a  hero,  or  in 
picturing  the  allurement  of  a  brigandish  career.  But 
Robin  Hood  an  outlaw  ?  He  lived  in  an  age  of  injustice 
when  might  made  right.  The  man  of  the  people  was 
but  the  chattel  of  a  king,  with  no  rights  his  lord  was 
bound  to  respect.  Bold  Robin,  in  the  depths  of  Sher- 


Interests  in  Heroic  Period  35 

wood  Forest,  devoted  his  life  to  redressing  wrongs.  He 
took  from  the  oppressor  and  gave  to  the  oppressed. 
He  strove  to  stamp  out  injustice  and  tyranny,  and 
his  spirit  is  the  foundation  of  the  democracy  that 
underlies  every  just  government  today.  He  was  an 
outlaw,  not  because  he  was  a  criminal,  but  because  he 
rebelled  against  the  monstrous  injustice  of  his  age  and 
strove  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  poor  and 
downtrodden.  In  the  time  of  Henry  the  Second  he 
was  hunted  like  a  deer,  but  in  the  twentieth  century  he 
would  be  honored  as  a  great  reformer. 

Robin's  sense  of  justice  appeals  to  boys  and  girls, 
and  his  fearlessness  and  kindliness  awaken  their  admira- 
tion. They  respond  sympathetically  to  the  story  from 
the  opening  chapter,  when  he  enters  the  forest  and 
Little  John  joins  his  band,  through  the  closing  one  where 
the  hero  of  the  greenwood  goes  to  his  final  rest.  If 
the  tale  is  told  with  emphasis  upon  the  true  spirit  of 
Robin  Hood  instead  of  with  a  half  apology,  it  will  prove 
wholesome  food  for  the  children  and  will  help  to  make 
them  juster,  kinder,  and  more  democratic  men  and 
women. 

The  national  epics  are  splendid  sources  of  story  mate- 
rial for  children  in  the  heroic  period,  especially  those 
originating  in  Teutonic  lands  and  those  formalized 
among  nations  not  yet  in  a  high  state  of  civilization. 
Their  characters  are  elemental,  and  their  incidents 
appeal  to  boys  and  girls.  Some  of  the  stories  of  King 
Arthur  and  his  knights,  of  Reowulf,  of  Sigurd  the 
Volsung,  of  Frithjof,  of  Pwyll,  hero  of  the  Welsh 
Mabinogion,  as  well  as  many  from  the  Nibelungenlied, 
the  Iliad,  and  the  Odyssey,  can  also  be  used  with  ex- 


36  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

cellent  results.  Naturally  the  tales  of  an  elemental  type 
should  be  chosen  first  rather  than  those  that  are  more 
highly  refined  and  poetic.  It  has  been  my  experience 
that  the  Mabinogion  is  enjoyed  before  the  Arthuriad. 
Boys,  especially,  delight  in  hearing  of  Pwyll,  lord  of  the 
Seven  Countries  of  Dyved,  and  the  adventures  that 
befell  him  as  he  hunted  in  the  forests  of  his  dominions. 
These  stories  are  of  very  ancient  origin  and  are  simple, 
strong,  and  dramatic.  They  were  sung  by  harpers 
(mabinogs)  in  the  castle  halls  of  Wales,  and  finally  were 
gathered  into  the  Mabinogion,  which  was  done  into 
English  by  Lady  Charlotte  Gest.  The  story-teller 
will  find  The  Boy's  Mabinogion,  by  Sidney  Lanier,  an 
excellent  handbook  for  this  period,  as  it  embodies  the 
most  desirable  of  this  ancient  Gaelic  material,  and  is 
put  into  modern  form  by  an  artist. 

Follow  the  Mabinogion  with  the  less  poetic  of  the 
King  Arthur  stories.  The  account  of  how  Arthur 
won  his  sword  and  became  king,  of  Percival  and  the  Red 
Knight,  and  of  Arthur  fighting  the  giant  mean  more  to 
the  ten-year-old  than  does  Sir  Galahad  and  the  Holy 
Grail.  The  Greek  myths  too  should  be  drawn  from 
during  this  period  —  not  the  highly  poetic,  finished 
tales  of  the  Hellenes,  but  the  elemental  ones  whose 
heroes  are  rugged  characters  that  awaken  child  admira- 
tion. Hercules,  Perseus,  Achilles,  and  several  other 
demigods  vie  for  honors  with  King  Arthur  and  Beowulf 
in  the  mind  of  the  fourth-grade  boy,  and  the  story- 
teller should  not  fail  to  draw  from  the  rich  field  of 
southern  literature  as  well  as  from  that  of  the  north. 
But  let  her  exercise  care  in  selection  and  keep  to  the 
realm  of  heroism  instead  of  entering  that  of  romance. 


Story  Interests  in  Heroic  Period  37 

Such  stories  as  "Cupid  and  Psyche,"  ':  Pygmalion  and 
Galatea,"  and  "  Apollo  and  Daphne  "  mean  little  to 
boys  and  girls  of  ten,  yet  teachers  and  librarians  often 
use  them  and  wonder  why  their  audiences  respond 
with  so  little  enthusiasm.  There  are  those  who  con- 
tend that  all  the  epical  stories  should  be  given  in 
simplified  form  during  this  period,  but  why  spoil  the 
romantic,  poetic  ones  which  are  so  much  more  enjoyed 
a  little  later  and  so  much  better  understood,  when 
there  are  hundreds  that  can  be  given  without  pruning 
them  to  the  heart  ?  Certain  investigations  and  statis- 
tics show  that  the  telling  of  the  highly  refined  Greek 
myths  to  boys  and  girls  in  the  early  heroic  period  gives 
an  erroneous  idea  of  Greek  standards,  and  dulls  an  in- 
terest in  mythology  later  on.  The  story-teller  should 
bear  this  fact  in  mind,  and  remember  that  literature 
rich  in  symbolism  and  formulated  among  people  refined 
to  a  degree  of  aestheticism  is  not  the  literature  to  give 
to  adventure-craving  children,  no  matter  to  what  simple 
language  it  may  be  reduced. 

Splendidly  dramatic  is  the  tale  of  Roland  and  Oliver, 
which  every  boy  loves,  of  Ogier  the  Dane,  and  of  some 
of  the  other  heroes  of  the  time  of  Charlemagne.  Chil- 
dren listen  spellbound  to  the  account  of  the  first  meeting 
and  disagreement  of  the  two  lads  whose  friendship 
makes  such  a  sweet  and  colorful  story,  and  of  Charles 
the  Great  in  council  with  his  peers  and  knights,  and 
delight  in  the  swinging  lines  of  the  old  ballad : 

The  emperor  sits  in  an  orchard  wide, 
Roland  and  Oliver  by  his  side : 
With  them  many  a  gallant  lance, 
Full  fifteen  thousand  of  gentle  France. 


38  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Upon  a  throne  of  beaten  gold 
The  lord  of  ample  France  behold : 
White  his  hair  and  beard  were  seen, 
Fair  of  body  and  proud  of  mien. 

The  story  of  Bayard  is  an  admirable  one  for  this 
period,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Spanish  hero,  the  Cid ; 
and  "  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  "  is  always  a  favorite. 

I  plead,  too,  that  more  of  the  narrator's  time  be  de- 
voted to  the  telling  of  our  own  American  epic  of  Hia- 
watha. The  answer  comes,  "That  is  read  in  school." 
To  be  sure  it  is,  and  one  reason  why  it  is  read  so  badly 
and  appreciated  so  little  is  that  it  was  not  given  in  story 
form  first.  The  German  child  uses  the  Nibelungenlied 
as  a  classroom  text,  but  before  he  studies  the  epic  he 
knows  its  tales.  Gunther,  Hagen,  Siegfried,  and 
Dankwart  are  familiar  characters  to  him,  and  conse- 
quently he  enjoys  the  poem. 

The  same  principle  applies  to  Hiawatha.  If  boys  and 
girls  are  acquainted  with  Hiawatha  himself,  if  they 
know  Nokomis  and  Chibiabos  and  Kwasind  and  lagoo 
before  they  are  given  the  poem  to  study,  it  means  some- 
thing to  them  that  it  cannot  mean  otherwise.  Perhaps 
one  reason  why  Longfellow's  masterpiece  has  been  so 
little  used  by  story-tellers  is  that  the  work  of  putting 
it  into  story  form  is  a  task  with  which  the  non-profes- 
sional is  unable  to  cope.  Now,  however,  an  excellent 
retold  work  is  on  the  market  —  Winston's  Story  oj 
Hiawatha  —  which  makes  it  possible  for  every  narrator 
to  have  her  children  know  the  American  epic  as  well  as 
German  young  people  know  the  Nibelungenlied. 

In  considering  stories  for  the  heroic  period  of  child- 
hood, let  us  not  forget  the  biographical  and  historical 


Story  Interests  in  Heroic  Period  39 

narratives  that  fulfill  every  requirement  of  hero  tales. 
Boys  and  girls  love  the  epical  stories  because  they  are 
true  in  spirit,  but  they  love  also  those  that  are  true  in 
fact.  It  is  a  mistake  to  think  that  biography  is  dull  and 
uninteresting  to  them,  because  stories  of  the  boyhood 
of  great  men,  great  rulers,  great  discoverers  and  path- 
finders, great  lawgivers,  painters,  musicians,  and  writers, 
are  hero  tales  of  the  highest  type.  Many  of  them  have 
been  told  admirably  for  young  people,  and  the  narrator 
does  no  more  valuable  work  than  when  he  uses  them 
freely.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  De  Soto,  Coronado,  Fred- 
erick the  Great,  Napoleon,  Garibaldi,  Solyman  the 
Magnificent,  Robert  the  Rruce,  Kosciusko,  William 
Wallace,  William  Tell,  and  dozens  of  others  are  as 
fascinating  as  Beowulf  or  Hercules  and  have  an  influ- 
ence even  more  powerful,  because  children  know  that 
these  heroes  have  actually  lived.  Never  mind  what 
some  authorities  say  about  the  man  of  Switzerland  be- 
ing a  mythical  personage.  Let  American  young  people 
know  him  as  those  of  the  Alpine  land  know  him,  as  the 
defender  of  his  ancient  rights  and  native  mountains, 
the  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  Helvetia.  They  will 
be  finer  men  and  women  because  of  it,  and  that,  more 
than  anything  else,  concerns  the  story-teller. 

Then,  too,  there  are  history  tales,  hundreds  of  them, 
from  every  age  and  every  land.  There  are  brave  deeds 
done  by  children  that  every  child  should  know.  The 
little  girl  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  holding  the  blockhouse 
of  Vercheres  against  the  Iroquois,  the  boy  whose  cour- 
age and  presence  of  mind  saved  Lucerne,  the  event 
through  which  William  of  Orange  came  to  be  known  as 
William  the  Silent,  and  many  other  similar  narratives 


40  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

are  intensely  interesting  to  boys  and  girls.  Some  of 
the  Old  Testament  tales  belong  in  this  period ;  for  a 
detailed  account  of  them  see  Chapter  Twelve,  on  "  Bible 
Stories." 

At  this  age,  when  the  adventure  spirit  runs  high, 
when  pathfinding  and  Indian  fighting  are  desired  above 
all  other  things,  how  are  we  to  keep  boys  and  girls  from 
running  away  to  lead  such  lives  themselves?  One 
way  is  by  letting  them  live  the  lives  of  the  heroes  who 
thrill  them  —  in  other  words,  by  dramatizing.  It  is 
the  hunger  for  experience  that  causes  boys  to  turn  vaga- 
bond, and  juvenile-court  records  show  that  many  of  the 
ten-  and  twelve-year-olds  who  are  lured  by  the  call  of 
adventure  come  from  homes  that  offer  nothing  to  feed 
the  adventure  craving,  whereas  those  who  have  some  of 
the  desired  experiences  at  home  are  less  likely  to  start 
out  seeking  them.  It  is  a  wise  mother  who  encourages 
her  boys  to  make  pirate  caves  in  their  own  back  yards, 
to  be  youthful  Crusoes,  Kit  Carsons,  Daniel  Boones, 
and  Robin  Hoods  for  a  Saturday  morning,  and  the 
school  or  public  playground  that  provides  for  much  out- 
of-door  acting  is  doing  something  that  will  prevent 
many  evils.  In  some  children  this  desire  is  so  strong 
that  it  is  almost  a  fever,  and  if  not  satisfied  in  a  whole- 
some manner  is  likely  to  lead  to  lamentable  ends.  I 
remember  how  much  it  meant  to  me  in  my  own  child- 
hood, when  I  burned  to  lead  the  lives  of  some  of  the 
heroes  of  whom  I  had  read  or  heard,  to  be  permitted  to 
participate  in  the  Indian  warfare  of  the  neighborhood 
boys  and  be  the  maiden  who  was  carried  away  into 
captivity.  It  was  such  a  blissful  experience  that  I  joy- 
fully contributed  my  small  allowance  to  buy  red  ink 


Story  Interests  in  Heroic  Period  41 

for  war  paint  and  to  help  costume  the  braves,  and  when 
a  Sioux  band  came  to  town,  I  ecstatically  trudged  after 
the  wagon  and  lived  for  a  day  in  a  realm  far  removed 
from  my  accustomed  one.  The  boys  had  feeling  to 
even  a  greater  degree,  and  who  knows  but  that  without 
this  Indian  play  some  of  them  might  have  gone  forth  in 
search  of  adventure  and  become  criminals,  whereas 
every  one  is  now  a  law-abiding,  useful  citizen. 

SOURCES  OF  STORY  MATERIAL  FOR  THE  HEROIC  PERIOD 

ANDERSON,  RASMUS  BJORN  :    The  Younger  Edda. 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Story  of  Roland;  American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds. 

BOLTON,  SARAH  K. :   Poor  Boys  Who  Became  Famous. 

BRADISH,  SARAH  P. :    Old  Norse  Stories. 

BROOKS,  ELB RIDGE  S. :   Historic  Girls. 

CHURCH,  ALFRED  J. :   Stories  from  the  Iliad;   Stories  from  the  Odyssey. 

COE,  FANNIE  E. :   Heroes  of  Everyday  Life. 

FARMER,  FLORENCE  V. :   Boy  and  Girl  Heroes. 

FOA,  MADAME  EUGENIE  :   Boy  Life  of  Napokon. 

GRIERSON,  E.  W. :    Tales  from  Scottish  Ballads. 

KINGSLEY,  CHARLES  :   Greek  Heroes. 

LANG,  JEANIE:  The  Story  of  Robert  the  Bruce;  The  Story  of  General 
Gordon. 

LANIER,  SIDNEY  :    The  Boy's  Mabinogion. 

I^ANSING,  M.  F. :   Page,  Esquire,  and  Knight. 

MABIE,  H.  W. :   Norse  Stories  from  the  Eddas. 

MARSHALL,  H.  E. :    The  Story  of  William  Tell;   The  Story  of  Roland. 

MATTHEWS,  AGNES  R. :  Seven  Champions  of  Christendom  (St.  George 
and  the  Dragon). 

MORRIS,  WILLIAM  :   Sigurd  the  Volsung. 

NEPOS,  C. :    Tales  of  Great  Generals. 

NIEBUHR,  B.  G. :   Greek  Heroes. 

PYLE,  HOWARD  :  Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood;  Stories  of  King 
Arthur  and  His  Knights. 

RAGOZIN,  Z.  A. :  Siegfried  and  Beowulf. 

TAPPAN,  EVA  M. :  In  the  Days  of  Alfred  the  Great;  In  the  Days  of  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror. 

WARREN,  MAUDE  RADFORD  :  Robin  Hood  and  His  Merry  Men. 


CHAPTER  FIVE 
THE  STORY  INTERESTS  OF  CHILDHOOD  (Continued) 

D.     ROMANTIC    PERIOD 

AT  about  the  age  of  twelve  or  thirteen  the  child's 
rougher  instincts  begin  to  soften.  Romance  and 
sentiment  develop.  He  becomes  particular  about 
his  appearance.  It  is  less  of  a  task  than  formerly  to 
get  the  boy  to  wash  his  face  and  hands,  and  he  has 
not  the  antipathy  toward  civilized  attire  that  he  had 
in  the  days  when  Robinson  Crusoe  was  the  hero. 
Instead,  he  manifests  a  liking  for  being  dressed  accord- 
ing to  prevailing,  modes,  sometimes  changing  so  sud- 
denly from  a  dirty  cave  dweller  into  a  dandy  that  it 
is  like  the  metamorphosis  from  grub  to  butterfly.  He 
craves  socks  and  ties  of  bright  colors  and  clothes  that 
attract  attention.  If  fashion  prescribes  peg-topped 
or  straight,  spare  trousers,  he  wants  them  extremely 
wide  or  extremely  narrow,  and  is  willing  to  have  his 
chin  sawed  unmercifully  if  high  collars  are  the  vogue, 
not  because  of  a  fit  of  hysteria,  but  because  he  has 
entered  the  period  when  sex  awakens.  He  is  becom- 
ing interested  in  the  girls  and  wishes  to  be  dressed  in 
a  manner  that  will  cause  them  to  be  interested  in  him ; 
and  very  often  his  taste  for  literature  changes  as  com- 
pletely as  his  personal  habits.  He  desires  stories  of 
a  higher  type  of  heroism  than  those  he  craved  in  an 
earlier  period,  stories  of  romance  and  chivalry,  and 
now  is  the  time  to  give  him  the  epic  in  its  entirety, 
because  of  the  deep  racial  emotions  therein  expressed. 
He  has  had  many  of  the  adventure  tales  from  the 
epics  during  the  earlier  period.  Now  he  is  ready  for 

42 


Story  Interests  in  Romantic  Period  43 

those  tinged  with  romance,  those  pervaded  by  a  spirit 
of  fiery  idealism  in  which  knights  risk  limb  and  life 
in  loyalty  to  principle,  for  fealty  to  king,  or  in  defense 
of  some  fair  lady.  Percival  seeking  the  Grail  is  a  finer 
hero  to  him  than  Percival  battling  with  the  Red  Knight, 
and  the  vow  of  the  men  of  the  Round  Table  means 
something  because  he  can  understand  it.  In  a  vague, 
indefinite  way  romance  is  touching  his  own  life,  and 
his  noblest  emotions  are  awakened  by  the  noble  words : 

To  reverence  the  king,  as  if  he  were 

Their  conscience,  and  their  conscience  as  their  king, 

To  break  the  heathen  and  uphold  the  Christ, 

To  ride  abroad  redressing  human  wrongs, 

To  speak  no  slander,  no,  nor  listen  to  it, 

To  honor  his  own  word  as  if  his  God's, 

To  lead  sweet  lives  in  purest  chastity, 

To  love  one  maiden  only,  cleave  to  her, 

And  worship  her  by  years  of  noble  deeds. 

Boys  and  girls  in  the  heroic  period  enjoyed  only 
the  Arthurian  stories  that  glorify  physical  bravery, 
those  of  jousting  and  conflict  into  which  women  do 
not  enter.  But  now  they  delight  in  such  tales  as  those 
of  Geraint  and  Enid,  of  Launcelot  and  Elaine,  and 
some  of  the  adventures  of  Tristram. 

Here  a  word  of  caution  is  necessary.  Like  the  Old 
Testament  stories,  these  romantic  tales  will  arouse 
the  noblest  emotions  and  highest  ideals  if  given  with 
wisdom,  but  if  told  thoughtlessly  may  create  an  almost 
morbid  desire  for  the  vulgar.  Therefore  the  non-pro- 
fessional narrator  should  use  for  his  work  some  retold 
version  of  the  King  Arthur  tales  instead  of  adapting 
from  Le  Morte  cT Arthur,  because  there  is  much  in  the 


44  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

original  that  should  be  eliminated  in  presenting  it  to 
those  in  the  adolescent  period.  The  Pyle  or  Radford 
editions  are  excellent,  likewise  The  Boy's  King  Arthur, 
by  Sidney  Lanier,  each  of  which  keeps  the  spirit  of 
the  poem,  but  omits  everything  objectionable. 

The  story  of  King  Arthur,  embracing  as  it  does  the 
Grail  legend,  should  be  followed  by  the  German  tale 
of  "  Parsifal,"  —  not  the  Wagner  opera  version,  but 
the  original  medieval  legend,  "The  Knightly  Song  of 
Songs"  of  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach.  This  has  been 
retold  beautifully  by  Anna  Alice  Chapin  in  The  Story 
of  Parsifal,  a  book  with  which  every  child  in  the  ro- 
mantic period  should  be  familiar.  Miss  Guerber,  in 
her  Legends  of  the  Middle  Ages,  relates  the  tale  of 
Titurel  and  the  Holy  Grail,  which  will  be  helpful  to 
the  narrator  because  of  the  light  it  throws  on  the  origin 
of  the  legend.  But  for  a  telling  version  there  is  none 
equal  to  that  of  Miss  Chapin,  none  in  which  the  lofty 
chivalric  spirit  of  the  medieval  poem  is  portrayed  so 
faithfully. 

The  romantic  portion  of  all  the  national  epics,  as 
well  as  that  of  Le  Morte  d' Arthur,  is  excellent  material 
for  the  story-teller  in  the  early  adolescent  period. 
The  Nibelungenlied,  the  Iliad,  the  Odyssey,  and  parts 
of  Jerusalem  Delivered  feed  boys  and  girls  in  the  early 
teens  as  pure  adventure  stories  fed  them  a  year  or  two 
before.  And  if  the  narrator  would  have  his  young 
listeners  enjoy  the  epical  tales  to  the  uttermost,  let 
him  quote  freely  from  the  epic  itself  as  he  tells  them. 
During  this  age,  when  romance  and  sentiment  run 
high  and  life  is  beheld  through  a  rainbow-hued  glamour, 
poetry  is  a  serious  and  beautiful  thing.  The  frequent 


Story  Interests  in  Romantic  Period  45 

interpolation  of  it  into  a  story  heightens  the  pleasure 
in  that  story,  and  young  people  listen  with  the  gleam- 
ing eyes  of  intense  feeling  to  words  like  these  of  Sieg- 
fried : 

"Ever,"  said  he,  "your  brethren  I'll  serve  as  best  I  may, 
Nor  once  while  I  have  being,  will  head  on  pillow  lay, 
Till  I  have  done  to  please  them  whate'er  they  bid  me  do ; 
And  this,  my  Lady  Kriemhild,  is  all  for  love  of  you." 

Moreover,  young  people  should  understand  that 
the  epics  were  first  given  to  the  race  in  poetic  form,  and 
in  leading  them  to  that  knowledge  we  can  lead  them 
also  to  an  appreciation  of  the  majestic,  sweeping  meas- 
ures of  the  Iliad  or  Odyssey  or  Nibelungenlied,  which 
is  in  itself  worth  thought  and  labor  on  the  part  of  the 
story-teller. 

The  Langobardian  myths,  Dietrich  von  Bern,  the 
story  of  Gudrun,  of  Charlemagne  and  Frastrada  and 
Huon  of  Bordeaux,  are  intensely  interesting  in  this 
period.  Joan  of  Arc  never  fails  to  charm,  while  tales 
of  the  minnesingers,  the  troubadours,  and  the  Cru- 
saders open  gates  into  lands  of  enchantment. 

Oh,  the  romance  in  the  lives  of  these  medieval  wan- 
derers !  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide,  too  poor  to 
buy  him  a  coat,  yet  swaying  the  thought  of  the  Ger- 
man lands ;  Bernard  of  Ventadour,  among  the  flaming 
roses  of  Provence,  making  music  at  the  court  of  Eleanor 
of  Aquitaine;  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion,  riding  with  a 
singing  heart  toward  Palestine ;  De  Coucy,  Frederick 
Barbarossa,  and  scores  of  others  who  lived  and  achieved 
in  that  distant,  colorful  time !  Their  lives  are  gleam- 
ing pages  in  the  history  of  their  age,  and  then-  stories 


46  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

are  glorious  ones  to  give  to  boys  and  girls  who  crave 
the  romantic. 

Wonderful,  too,  is  the  account  of  the  Children's 
Crusade,  of  Stephen,  a  happy  shepherd  on  the  hills 
of  Cloyes,  and  that  other  lad  of  Cologne,  who,  fired 
with  desire  to  restore  to  the  Christian  world  places 
the  Moslem  had  defiled,  sailed  away  with  their  followers 
to  shipwreck  and  slavery.  In  connection  with  this 
tale  the  children  should  hear,  if  possible,  some  of  the 
music  from  Gabriel  Pierne's  great  cantata,  The  Chil- 
dren's Crusade.  It  will  give  them  a  clearer,  more  vivid 
idea  of  the  preaching  of  the  boy  apostle,  of  the  gather- 
ing of  the  company,  of  the  pilgrimage  along  the  Rhine 
and  Seine,  of  their  rejoicing  upon  reaching  the  port  of 
Marseilles,  and  of  the  light  of  noble  purpose  that 
glorified  their  eyes  as  they  went  singing  to  the  ships. 
Perhaps  historians  have  proved  the  account  of  this 
crusade  to  be  just  a  myth.  Tell  it  anyway,  for  whether 
it  be  fact  or  fiction  the  tale  is  too  lovely  for  young  folk 
to  miss. 

There  is  another  type  of  biographical  story,  that  of 
the  man  and  woman  of  moral  courage  whose  life  was 
not  so  chromatically  picturesque  as  that  of  him  who 
fought  the  Saracens  or  sang  in  old  Provence,  but  never- 
theless thrills,  fascinates,  and  influences.  Florence 
Nightingale  is  a  good  example.  Beautiful,  the  daughter 
of  rich  and  distinguished  parents,  she  might  have 
reigned  a  social  queen  in  England ;  yet  she  spent  her 
young  womanhood  studying  how  to  alleviate  human 
suffering,  toiling  under  the  burning  sun  of  the  East, 
battling  with  disease  at  the  risk  of  health  and  life,  and 
well  deserving  the  title  given  her  by  those  she  com- 


Story  Interests  in  Romantic  Period  47 

forted,  "The  Angel  of  the  Crimea."  I  have  seen  girls 
of  sixteen  listen  with  tears  in  their  eyes  to  the  story 
of  this  noble  Englishwoman,  and  have  watched  the 
throats  of  boys  throb  and  pulsate  upon  hearing  the 
account  of  the  British  Army  and  Navy  banquet  at 
which  the  question  was  asked,  "Who,  of  all  the  workers 
in  the  Crimea,  will  be  remembered  longest?"  and  every 
voice  replied  in  refrain,  "Florence  Nightingale!" 
Several  years  ago  a  questionnaire,  distributed  at  a 
convention  of  nurses,  revealed  the  fact  that  ten  per 
cent  of  those  there  had  been  influenced  toward  their 
life  career  by  the  story  of  this  great  English  nurse. 
Yet  there  are  dubious  souls  who  wonder  if  story-telling 
pays !  If  the  narrator  can  have  only  a  few  books 
from  which  to  draw  material  for  the  romantic  period, 
Laura  E.  Richards'  Life  of  Florence  Nightingale  ought 
to  be  one  of  the  number.  It  is  sympathetically  and 
beautifully  told,  an  artist's  tribute  to  an  immortal 
woman. 

Workers  with  youths  in  the  adolescent  period  are 
brought  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  gravest  problems 
educators  have  to  solve.  What  is  to  be  done  about 
lovesick  boys  and  girls,  those  in  whom  the  elemental 
passions  have  awakened  yet  who  have  not  the  judgment 
and  self-control  that  age  and  experience  bring?  How 
are  we  to  keep  them,  in  their  first  emotional  upheaval, 
from  losing  all  sense  of  proportion  and  from  pursuing 
a  course  that  may  lead  to  disaster  ?  The  freedom  given 
in  these  days  of  coeducation,  and  the  unrestricted  cir- 
culation of  novels  and  stories  dealing  with  the  rela- 
tions of  the  sexes,  which  may  be  worthy  creations  from 
the  standpoint  of  art,  but  which  distort  the  ideas  of 


48  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

unformed  youth,  make  possible  a  condition  that  often 
appalls  parents  and  high-school  teachers  and  sets 
them  to  wondering  how  to  meet  it. 

Ellen  Key  suggests  a  remedy.  In  this  period  when 
the  world-old  emotions  are  first  aroused,  she  advocates 
the  use  of  love  stories  that  are  pure  in  tone  and  high 
in  ideal.  We  cannot  change  human  nature  and  keep 
the  boy  of  sixteen  from  being  drawn  as  if  by  a  magnet 
to  the  maid  who  is  lovely  in  his  eyes,  but  we  can  give 
him  an  ideal  that  will  make  his  feeling  an  elevating 
thing  instead  of  a  debasing  one.  We  can  put  into  the 
heart  of  the  girl  a  poetry  and  idealism  that  will  keep 
her  worthy  of  the  prince,  and  we  can  do  it  through 
literature.  Instead  of  leaving  her  free  to  roam  un- 
guided  and  read  whatever  falls  into  her  hand,  or  of 
sitting  like  a  board  of  censors  beside  her  and  goading 
her  toward  the  forbidden,  which  always  allures,  we 
can  lead  her  to  delightful,  wholesome  stories,  of  which 
there  are  a  goodly  number.  This  does  not  mean  con- 
fining her  to  writers  of  several  generations  ago.  Pres- 
ent-day youths  know  that  almost  every  one  reads 
current  books,  and  they  intend  to  have  them,  too. 
Therefore  let  the  story-teller  use  the  best  of  the  new, 
even  as  he  uses  the  best  of  the  old.  Let  him  refer 
frequently  to  it  and  tell  enough  of  it  to  awaken  such 
an  interest  that  it  will  be  read.  A  good  plan  is  for 
the  teacher  of  English  to  devote  a  few  minutes  each 
week  to  the  discussion  of  some  recent  book  or  books, 
and  to  give  lists  of  those  that  boys  and  girls  will  enjoy. 
In  public  libraries  slips  should  be  posted,  upon  which 
are  named  the  most  desirable  of  recent  publications, 
and  problem  novels  should  be  excluded  from  shelves 


Story  Interests  in  Romantic  Period  49 

to  which  the  public  has  access.  Thus  our  adolescent 
children  may  be  led  to  glean  from  the  best  of  the  new. 
But  meanwhile  let  us  not  neglect  the  old. 

One  of  the  lovely  works  with  which  to  familiarize 
high-school  pupils  is  Ekkehard,  by  Joseph  Victor  von 
Scheffel,  which,  aside  from  its  value  as  a  historical 
novel,  is  one  of  the  noblest  love  stories  ever  written. 
It  is  a  charming  picture  of  life  in  the  tenth  century, 
when  the  Hunnic  hordes  swept  like  a  devastating 
flame  into  the  peaceful  Bodensee  region.  Hadwig, 
proud  duchess  of  Suabia,  Ekkehard,  the  dreaming, 
handsome  monk  who  goes  from  the  monastery  of  St. 
Gall  to  become  Latin  instructor  at  Castle  Hohentwiel 
and  learns  far  more  than  he  teaches,  Praxedis,  the 
winsome  Greek  maid,  Hadumoth  the  goose  girl,  and 
the  goat  boy  Audifax,  all  are  fascinating,  appealing 
characters.  From  beginning  to  end  the  book  is 
intensely  interesting,  and  as  Nathan  Haskell  Dole 
says,  "full  of  undying  beauty." 

Another  charming  work  of  a  German  writer  is  Moni 
the  Goat  Boy,  by  Johanna  Spyri.  The  novels  of  Eugenie 
Marlitt  are  wholesome  and  well  written,  and  give  vivid 
pictures  of  life  in  the  smaller  courts  of  Europe.  Those 
of  Louisa  Miihlbach  portray  in  a  remarkable  manner 
the  lives  of  some  of  the  notable  figures  of  history,  and 
the  intimate  glimpses  they  give  of  such  characters  as 
Frederick  the  Great,  Schiller,  Goethe,  Marie  Antoinette, 
and  Maria  Theresa,  with  their  reflection  of  the  color 
and  ceremony  of  a  bygone  day,  cause  them  to  mean 
in  this  period  what  adventure  tales  mean  to  boys  and 
girls  of  ten. 

In  drawing  from  Germany,  let  us  not  forget  Georg 


50  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Ebers,  who  lifts  the  cloud  of  mystery  that  veils  old 
Egypt  and  permits  us  to  share  the  romance,  the  loves, 
the  joys  and  sorrows  of  men  and  women  of  the  Pha- 
raohs' time.  His  works  are  not  dull  inscriptions  gath- 
ered from  sepulchers  and  mummies,  but  moving  pic- 
tures of  living,  breathing  men  and  women,  filmed 
by  the  genius  of  a  master;  and  the  triumphs  of  the 
Princess  Bent-Anat,  the  sufferings  of  the  captive 
Uarda,  and  the  spectacular  victory  of  the  royal  chari- 
oteer are  so  real  that  they  seem  to  be  in  the  here  and 
now  instead  of  in  the  early  morning  of  the  world. 

From  France  we  may  glean  without  limit.  Georges 
Ohnet,  Jacques  Vincent,  Ludovic  Halevy,  and  dozens 
of  other  writers  have  produced  works  that  are  not  only 
a  part  of  the  education  of  every  one  who  aspires  to 
become  a  cultured  man  or  woman,  but  are  as  fascinat- 
ing as  fairy  tales  to  a  child.  Then  there  is  the  great 
treasure  house  of  English  and  American  literature, 
as  rich  in  priceless  things  of  pen  and  brain  as  the  gallery 
of  the  Vatican  is  rich  in  paintings  and  sculpture.  Boys 
and  girls  will  not  draw  from  this  wealth  unguided, 
because  they  do  not  know  where  it  is  stored.  But 
if  we  give  them  frequent  glimpses  of  its  brightness,  if 
we  half  open  the  door  of  the  repository  and  let  them 
peep  inside,  they  will  follow,  seeking  it,  as  the  miner 
follows  the  half-revealed  ore  vein,  or  as  Ortnit  of  old 
pursued  the  Fata  Morgana.  They  need  not  drift 
into  pools  that  breed  disease,  when  by  enough  story- 
telling to  awaken  their  interest  in  the  beautiful  and 
fine  they  may  sail  into  open  streams  where  the  water 
is  clear,  and  where  there  are  no  submerged  reefs  to 
wreck  their  fragile  crafts. 


Story  Interests  in  Romantic  Period  51 

SOURCES  OF  STORY  MATERIAL  FOR  THE  ROMANTIC 
PERIOD 

ANTIN,  MARY  :    The  Promised  Land. 

BOLTON,  SARAH  K. :  Famous  Leaders  among  Men. 

BOUTET  DE  MONVEL,  L.  M. :    The  Story  of  Joan  of  Arc. 

BROOKS,  ELBRIDGE  STREETER  :  Historic  Girls. 

BUELL,  AUGUSTUS  C. :  John   Paul  Jones,   Founder  of  the   American 

Navy. 
BUXTON,  ETHEL  M.  WILMOT:    A  Book  of  Noble  Women;    Stories  of 

Persian  Heroes. 

CHAPIN,  ANNA  ALICE  :   The  Story  of  Parsival. 
CHURCH,   ALFRED  JAMES:    Stories  from  the  Iliad;    Stories  from  tJie 

Odyssey. 

CREIGHTON,  LOUISE  VON  GLEHN  :   Some  Famous  Women. 
GILBERT,  ARIADNE  :   More  than  Conquerors. 
GILCHRIST,  BETH  BRADFORD  :  Life  of  Mary  Lyon. 
GUERBER,  HELENE  A. :  Legends  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
LANIER,  SIDNEY  :   The  Boy's  King  Arthur. 
LOCKHART,  JOHN  GIBSON  :  Ancient  Spanish  Ballads. 
LOWELL,  FRANCIS  CABOT  :  Joan  of  Arc. 
NICHOLSON,  J.  S. :   Tales  from  Ariosto. 

QuiLLER-CoucH,  SIR  ARTHUR  THOMAS  :   The  Roll  Call  of  Honor. 
RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :  Florence  Nightingale,  the  Angel  of  the  Crimea. 
SNEDEKER,  CAROLINE  D. :    The  Coward  of  Thermopylae. 
SOUTHEY,  ROBERT  :   The  Life  of  Nelson. 
STERLING,  MARY  BLACKWELL:    The  Story  of  Parzival;    The  Story  of 

Sir  Galahad. 
STRICKLAND,  AGNES  :  The  Queens  of  England;  The  Queens  of  Scotland. 


CHAPTER  SIX 
BUILDING  THE  STORY 

STORY-TELLING  is  a  creative  art,  and  there- 
fore a  knowledge  of  underlying  principles  is  as 
indispensable  to  the  narrator  as  to  the  sculptor  or 
painter.  Without  this  knowledge  he  cannot  hope  to 
adapt  material  to  his  needs,  but  must  be  limited  in 
his  choice  to  what  is  already  in  form  to  give  to  children ; 
with  it  he  can  avail  himself  of  many  opportunities 
to  bring  to  his  charges  treasures  of  which  they  could 
know  nothing  but  for  his  ability  to  dig  them  from  the 
profound  tomes  in  which  they  are  hidden,  polish  and 
clarify  them,  and  put  them  in  a  setting  within  the  un- 
derstanding of  the  child.  For  this  reason  a  course  in 
story-writing  is  a  part  of  the  training  of  the  professional 
story-teller,  and  while  the  mother  or  teacher  cannot 
make  such  extensive  preparation,  she  may  to  advantage 
master  and  apply  a  few  cardinal  principles  of  con- 
struction. 

The  beginning  of  the  oral  story  should  never  be  an 
introduction,  because  from  the  first  word  the  child 
expects  something  to  happen,  and  if  nothing  does 
happen  his  attention  scatters  and  interest  is  lost. 
Therefore  the  narrator  must  bring  his  actors  on  the 
stage  and  get  them  to  work  at  once ;  he  must  not  let 
them  stand  around  waiting  while  he  gives  a  detailed 
description  of  their  hair  and  eyes  and  of  the  clothes 
they  wear,  but  must  have  them  do  something.  It  is 
often  necessary  to  make  some  explanatory  remarks 
in  the  beginning,  but  it  should  be  done  in  such  a  way 
that  the  hearer  has  no  time  to  wonder  when  the  story 

52 


Building  the  Story  53 

is  going  to  begin.  For  instance,  if  your  tale  is  about 
a  boy  in  Holland,  do  not  delay  bringing  the  boy  in 
while  you  tell  about  the  country.  Let  him  enter  at 
the  beginning,  and  then,  by  a  sentence  here  and  a 
clause  or  phrase  there,  give  the  setting  with  the  action. 
The  story  must  bristle  with  human  interest ;  for  while 
the  child  knows  nothing  about  the  meaning  of  that 
term,  he  nevertheless  demands  that  something  happen, 
and  if  nothing  does  happen  you  lose  his  attention.  The 
written  story  may  depend  for  its  charm  upon  character 
drawing  and  local  color,  but  the  oral  story  demands 
plot,  and  if  this  plot  is  badly  hung  together  the  story 
fails  in  its  aim,  for  it  does  not  make  a  deep  impression. 

The  narrative  style  is  better  adapted  to  beginning 
the  oral  story  than  dialogue,  because  it  is  more  easily 
handled  by  the  novice.  Of  course  the  professional 
story-teller  is  not  restricted  to  one  field,  and  genius 
is  privileged  to  range  at  large  and  ignore  rules  with  no 
dire  results.  But  it  is  safe  for  the  amateur  to  keep 
to  the  narrative  style.  In  the  depths  of  dialogue,  his 
little  craft  may  founder,  but  the  much-loved  words 
"Once  upon  a  time"  or  "Long,  long  ago"  arrest  the 
attention  immediately,  even  though  the  teller  be  not 
an  artist;  and  having  made  a  good  beginning,  he  is 
reasonably  sure  of  holding  his  hearers  to  the  end. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  he  does  not  get  them  at  the  start, 
his  story-telling  time  is  apt  to  end  in  failure. 

There  are  no  set  phrases  or  clauses  with  which  one 
must  begin  a  story,  and  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  say 
that  dialogue  can  never  be  used  safely  in  opening 
the  oral  story,  for  the  professional  often  uses  it  with 
fine  effect;  but  it  is  easier  and  safer  for  the  amateur 


54  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

to  use  the  narrative  beginning,  and  introduce  dialogue 
as  the  plot  develops. 

Dr.  Berg  Esenwein,  whose  excellent  work,  Writing 
the  Short  Story,  will  be  of  value  to  the  story-teller  as 
well  as  to  the  story-writer,  lays  down  these  rules : 

"Do  not  strike  one  note  in  the  beginning  and  another 
in  the  body  of  the  story. 

"Do  not  touch  anything  that  is  not  a  live  wire  lead- 
ing direct  to  the  heart  of  the  story. 

"Do  not  describe  where  you  can  suggest." 

An  examination  of  some  of  the  perfect  stories  of  the 
world  shows  that  these  rules  hold  good  in  every  case. 
The  tales  of  Grimm,  Andersen,  Perrault,  and  Bechstein 
are  flawless  in  construction,  and  each  plunges  directly 
into  the  thread  of  the  story.  Take,  for  instance,  "The 
Three  Tasks"  of  Grimm : 

There  once  lived  a  poor  maiden  who  was  young  and  fair, 
but  she  had  lost  her  own  mother,  and  her  stepmother  did 
all  she  could  to  make  her  miserable. 

"The  Pea  Blossom,"  of  Hans  Christian  Andersen: 

There  were  once  five  peas  in  a  pod.  They  were  green  and 
the  pod  was  green,  and  they  thought  all  the  world  was  green. 

"Red  Riding  Hood,"  as  written  by  Perrault,  begins 
thus : 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  in  a  small  village  in  the  coun- 
try a  little  girl,  the  prettiest,  sweetest  creature  that  ever  was 
seen.  Her  mother  loved  her  fondly,  and  her  grandmother 
doted  on  her  still  more. 

"The  Twin  Brothers"  by  Grimm : 

There  were  once  two  brothers,  one  of  whom  was  rich  and 
the  other  poor.  The  rich  brother  was  a  goldsmith  and  had 


Building  the  Story  55 

a  wicked  heart.    The  poor  brother  supported  himself  by 
making  brooms,  and  was  good  and  honest. 

It  is  the  same  in  Ruskin's  "King  of  the  Golden 
River,"  in  Robert  Southey's  "Three  Bears,"  in  all  the 
tales  of  De  Maupassant  that  are  suitable  for  telling, 
and  in  those  of  Alphonse  Daudet.  Note  the  begin- 
ning of  Daudet 's  "Last  Lesson" : 

Little  Franz  did  not  want  to  go  to  school  that  morning. 
He  would  much  rather  have  played.  The  air  was  so  warm 
and  still.  You  could  hear  the  blackbirds  singing  at  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  and  the  sound  of  the  Prussians  drilling  down  by 
the  old  sawmill. 

Every  one  of  these  stories  begins  with  narrative, 
and  every  one  is  a  perfect  tale  for  telling. 

Next  in  consideration  comes  the  body  of  the  story, 
which  our  rhetoric  teachers  taught  us  is  a  succession 
of  events  moving  toward  the  climax.  Until  the  climax 
is  reached  the  oral  story  must  be  full  of  suspense.  In 
other  words,  the  hearer  must  be  kept  guessing  about 
what  is  going  to  happen.  The  child  does  not  care 
about  a  story  in  which  he  sees  the  end.  He  does  enjoy 
hearing  the  same  story  told  over  and  over  again  if  it 
thrilled  him  at  the  first  telling,  because  he  likes  to  re- 
experience  that  thrill.  But  if  a  new  tale  holds  no  sus- 
pense, it  falls  flat.  Stevenson  says:  "The  one  rule  is 
to  be  infinitely  various  —  to  interest,  to  disappoint,  to 
surprise,  yet  still  to  gratify.  To  be  ever  changing,  as 
it  were,  the  stitch,  yet  still  to  give  the  effect  of  an  in- 
genious neatness."  In  other  words,  the  succession  of 
events  must  follow  one  another  in  a  regular  sequence,  and 
each  must  contribute  something  to  the  one  following  it. 


56  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

As  a  rather  homely  illustration  of  the  meaning  of 
this,  we  may  say  that  plot  centers  around  a  hole,  and 
in  a  well-constructed  story  the  steps  by  which  the  hero 
gets  into  the  hole  are  traced,  and  then  those  by  which 
he  gets  out.  The  getting  out  is  the  climax  or,  as  Dr. 
Barrett  says,  "the  apex  of  interest  and  emotion." 
In  other  words,  it  is  the  top  of  a  ladder,  and  the  story 
must  move  in  an  unbroken  line  toward  that  topmost 
rung.  If  it  does  not  do  this,  if  the  thread  of  the  tale 
is  broken  to  interpolate  something  that  should  have  been 
told  in  the  beginning,  the  narrator  loses  his  audience. 

The  climax  must  be  a  surprise  to  the  child.  This 
holds  good  in  all  the  great  oral  stories.  Take  as  an 
example  "The  Ugly  Duckling"  : 

And  he  flew  toward  the  beautiful  swans.  As  soon  as  they 
saw  him  they  ran  to  meet  him  with  outstretched  wings. 

"KiU  me,"  he  said. 

But  as  he  bent  his  head  he  saw  reflected  in  the  water,  not 
a  dark,  gray  bird  ugly  to  see,  but  a  beautiful  swan. 

In  Hawthorne's  "Great  Stone  Face"  the  climax  lies 
in  the  discovery  that  Ernest  is  the  likeness  of  the  Great 
Stone  Face,  a  delightful  surprise  to  the  child. 

It  is  the  same  in  "Red  Riding  Hood,"  in  "Tarpeia," 
in  "Why  the  Sea  Is  Salt."  It  is  the  same  in  Daudet's 
"Last  Lesson."  Note  the  splendid  climax  of  that 
masterpiece,  the  surprise  that  comes  to  Franz  as  he 
sits  awaiting  punishment,  when  the  teacher,  in  all 
kindness,  makes  this  announcement: 

"My  children,  this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  teach  you. 
The  order  has  come  from  Berlin  that  henceforth  nothing  but 
German  shall  be  taught  in  the  schools  of  Alsace  and  Lor- 
raine. This  is  your  last  lesson  in  French." 


Building  the  Story  57 

With  very  young  children  the  surprise  element  should 
be  simple.  Repetition  used  in  a  sequence,  or  jingle, 
accomplishes  it  well,  as  in  the  "Fee,  fi,  faugh,  fum" 
in  "Jack  and  the  Beanstalk,"  or  "Who's  been  sitting 
in  my  chair?"  in  "The  Three  Bears,"  or  "The  better 
to  see  you,  hear  you,  eat  you"  in  "Red  Riding  Hood." 
Each  time  the  child  hears  the  expression  his  interest  is 
roused  to  a  higher  pitch,  and  his  imagination  is  fired  to 
such  a  point  that  he  expects  almost  anything  to  happen. 

After  the  climax  is  reached,  the  oral  story  should 
descend  rapidly  to  a  close.  Many  of  the  best  oral 
stories  end  in  the  climax,  and  those  that  do  not,  add  but 
a  sentence  or  two  or  a  paragraph  at  most  to  round  out 
to  completion.  But  they  do  not  moralize  and  point 
out  a  lesson  to  the  child.  They  leave  him  to  see  the 
moral  for  himself,  and  he  sees  it  more  clearly  and  is 
the  more  deeply  impressed  by  it  if  he  is  allowed  a  few 
moments  of  silence  after  the  completion  of  the  story, 
instead  of  being  drawn  into  conversation  concerning 
it.  Marie  Shedlock,  the  English  story-teller  who  has 
done  so  much  to  put  the  narrator's  art  upon  the  plane 
where  it  deserves  to  be,  advocates  five  minutes  of 
silence  after  each  story  period,  and  in  my  own  experi- 
ence I  have  found  that  it  is  of  value  to  the  child. 
Conditions  under  which  one  works  will,  of  course, 
govern  this ;  but  above  all,  do  not  end  a  story  that 
delights  a  boy  or  girl  and  then  kill  the  whole  effect  by 
saying,  "Now,  Peter,  what  does  that  story  teach  you?" 
Give  the  child  credit  for  being  an  intelligent  human 
being,  and  do  not  spoil  a  tale  for  him  by  turning  it 
into  a  sermon  while  he  is  still  tingling  with  the  wonder 
and  joy  of  it. 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 
TELLING  THE  STORY 

SINCE  story-telling,  like  music,  is  an  art,  it  is  no 
more  possible  for  every  mother,  teacher,  or  libra- 
rian to  become  a  Scheherazade  than  it  is  possible  for 
every  child  who  takes  music  lessons  to  blossom  into  a 
Mozart  or  a  Mendelssohn.  The  inspiration,  the 
creative  fire  that  beguiles  the  wrath  of  a  sultan  or 
gives  birth  to  a  symphony,  emanates  from  within, 
from  the  fairy  germs  planted  somewhere  in  the  soul 
and  nurtured  into  fruition  through  unceasing  effort. 
Yet  it  is  possible  for  every  worker  with  children,  pro- 
vided he  be  willing  to  devote  some  time  and  labor  to 
the  study  of  technique,  to  learn  to  tell  stories  convinc- 
ingly and  entertainingly,  although  not  with  the  artistry 
of  the  professional. 

First  of  all,  whenever  possible,  he  should  choose 
stories  that  appeal  to  him,  those  he  will  enjoy  giving 
his  listeners  because  they  fit  his  own  moods,  for  he  can- 
not hope  to  tell  every  variety  of  tale  with  consummate 
excellence  any  more  than  an  actor  can  be  supreme 
in  all  types  of  roles.  The  genius  of  Sothern  displays 
itself  to  best  advantage  in  the  tragedies  of  Shakespeare, 
while  that  of  Henry  Miller,  Forbes-Robertson,  or 
David  Warfield  is  suited  to  dramas  of  another  kind. 
Each  of  these  artists  tried  various  roles  until  he  found 
his  forte.  Then  he  kept  to  the  field  in  which  he  could 
excel,  concentrating  all  his  effort  upon  it.  So  it  should 
be  with  the  story-teller.  He  should  experiment  with 
every  kind  of  narrative,  then  make  a  specialty  of  the 
one  in  which  he  can  be  at  his  best,  and  use  it  to  ac- 

58 


Telling  the  Story  59 

complish  his  most  far-reaching  results.  Of  course 
the  mother  or  teacher  cannot  confine  herself  to  one 
variety  of  story.  Her  interests  being  varied  and  many, 
she  cannot  hope  to  reach  the  height  of  specialization 
attained  by  the  artist  who  has  but  one  purpose,  one 
aim,  and  never  swerves  from  it.  She  must  endeavor 
to  acquire  a  fair  degree  of  proficiency  in  the  rendition 
of  every  type  of  story,  that  she  may  not  be  found  want- 
ing by  her  youthful  auditors ;  but  she  should  specialize 
with  the  kind  of  tale  that  is  nearest  an  expression  of 
her  own  moods,  because  in  this  way  she  can  obtain 
the  most  gratifying  results. 

Perhaps  she  is  particularly  skilled  in  presenting 
humorous  material.  Then  let  her  use  that  ability  as 
a  magnet  to  draw  her  hearers  to  the  story  period  and 
to  hold  them  through  it  to  the  end.  A  good  plan  is 
to  begin  the  program  with  a  merry  tale  to  put  the 
group  into  a  happy,  receptive  mood,  follow  it  with  a 
serious  one  containing  the  message  or  information  the 
children  should  receive,  and  then  give  another  humorous 
one.  The  serious  narrative  may  be  difficult  for  her 
to  handle,  and  may  not  be  given  with  the  skill  and 
charm  that  mark  her  rendition  of  another  type  of 
conte,  but  the  children,  understanding  that  one  of  her 
delightful  "funny"  stories  is  to  follow,  will  listen 
through  the  less  desired  number  and  unconsciously 
receive  its  lesson,  because  of  their  eagerness  to  hear 
the  succeeding  one.  Thus,  by  knowing  her  field  of 
excellence  and  making  the  most  of  it,  she  can  carry 
children  into  other  fields  because  of  their  delight  in 
meeting  her  in  the  one  in  which  she  is  most  at 
home. 


60  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

After  the  story  is  selected,  the  atmosphere  and 
setting  should  be  studied.  The  teller  should  have  a 
clear  idea  of  the  topography  of  the  country  in  which 
the  events  occur,  of  the  customs  of  the  people  who 
move  through  it,  of  their  homes,  their  modes  of  life, 
and  their  manner  of  dress,  because  the  more  into  the 
spirit  of  the  tale  he  can  put  himself,  the  more  effectively 
will  he  give  it.  If  it  be  a  narrative  of  Scotland  in  the 
days  of  Bruce,  he  should  try  to  hear  the  bagpipes,  see 
the  lochs  and  glens  of  the  Highlands,  and  walk  side 
by  side  with  the  heroes  of  that  time.  This  means 
gleaning  many  fields  for  materials  and  giving  something 
of  an  artist's  labor  to  preparation,  in  which,  of  course, 
he  will  be  limited  by  the  time  at  his  disposal.  But 
according  to  the  preparation  will  be  the  result,  and  to 
believe  previous  thought  and  study  unnecessary  be- 
cause one  has  natural  facility  for  story-telling  is  to  be 
gravely  mistaken.  Artists  of  the  stage  discovered  long 
ago  that  no  matter  how  gifted  they  may  be,  nothing 
can  take  the  place  of  preparation.  Adrienne  Le- 
couvreur  demonstrated  the  truth  of  this  statement 
several  centuries  ago  when  she  revolutionized  acting, 
and  theatrical  folk  are  still  demonstrating  it,  for  in 
just  this  respect  lies  the  difference  between  the  third- 
and  fourth-rate  player  and  the  great  dramatic  star. 
The  leading  man  or  woman  who  is  satisfied  to  learn 
lines  and  do  nothing  more,  does  not  get  beyond  stock. 
But  one  ambitious  to  climb  to  the  top  rung  of  the 
histrionic  ladder  will  travel  every  bypath  that  may 
possibly  yield  him  a  fuller  and  richer  comprehension 
of  the  part  he  has  to  play.  Geraldine  Farrar  read 
everything  obtainable  about  Japan  and  Japanese 


Telling  the  Story  61 

life  before  attempting  to  create  the  role  of  "Madame 
Butterfly,"  and  Maude  Adams  spent  months  studying 
the  life  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  following  every  step 
of  her  career  from  the  hills  of  Domremy  to  the  pyre  at 
Rouen,  before  being  satisfied  to  present  "Jeanne 
d'Arc"  at  the  Harvard  Stadium.  So  it  must  be  with 
the  story-teller.  Only  the  professional  can  devote 
weeks,  or  even  days,  to  the  preparation  of  one  program, 
but  every  one  who  attempts  to  tell  stories  must  know 
more  than  the  plot  of  the  tale  and  must  have  felt  its 
events  in  all  their  possibilities,  if  his  hearers  in  their 
turn  are  to  feel  them. 

The  amount  of  preparation  necessary  varies  with 
the  individual.  Those  possessing  natural  facility  and 
those  who  heard  much  story- telling  in  childhood  need 
less  than  those  whom  Nature  has  not  gifted,  or  who 
were  not  so  fortunate  in  early  environment.  But 
every  one  needs  some  preparation,  and  there  is  much 
slovenly,  valueless  story-telling  because  this  fact  is 
not  generally  recognized.  Many  teachers  do  not 
regard  story-telling  seriously  enough,  and  devote  far 
less  thought  to  it  than  to  other  branches  of  their 
work,  because  the  idea  is  prevalent  that  any  one  can 
spin  a  yarn  or  two.  Consequently  they  accomplish 
little  through  the  medium  of  the  story.  But  there  is 
another  group  of  workers  who  believe  that  story-telling 
means  as  much  today  as  it  meant  centuries  ago,  and 
its  members  are  sending  children  into  the  libraries.  As 
nearly  as  time  and  the  conditions  of  their  work  will 
permit  them,  they  are  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
medieval  narrator.  Like  him,  they  are  giving  an 
artist's  labor  to  their  work  because  they  realize  that 


62  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

great  results  come  only  through  great  effort.  But 
the  number  of  these  story-tellers,  compared  with  the 
workers  with  children,  is  very  small,  and  consequently 
results  are  not  yet  gratifying.  They  can  become 
gratifying  only  when  child  leaders  cease  to  think  that 
the  story  period  is  the  one  period  of  the  day  for  which 
no  preparation  need  be  made,  and  realize  that  every 
minute  devoted  to  previous  thought  and  study  will 
make  the  language  come  more  spontaneously  and 
fluently  and  will  bring  before  the  eyes  of  the  listeners 
pictures  that  are  clear  because  they  first  have  been 
clear  before  the  eyes  of  the  teller. 

Every  scene  in  a  story  should  be  visualized  until 
it  is  as  vivid  as  a  painting  on  a  canvas.  It  must  be 
studied  and  imagined  until  it  shifts  smoothly  and 
rapidly  into  the  succeeding  one.  Then  there  will  be 
no  danger  of  the  teller  having  to  pause  and  think  what 
comes  next,  or  of  having  to  interpolate  something 
that  should  have  been  introduced  at  an  earlier  stage 
of  the  tale.  This  is  not  equally  easy  for  every  one. 
Those  who  are  imaginative  by  nature  will  find  it  no 
task,  while  for  others  it  will  be  difficult  at  first.  But 
no  one  need  be  discouraged.  Each  succeeding  attempt 
will  bring  clearer  pictures  and  smoother  shifting  of 
scenes,  and  gratifying  results  will  follow  labor  and 
perseverance.  It  is  a  good  plan  for  the  beginner  to 
jot  down  in  outline  form  the  successive  events  of  the 
story  and  study  them  until  he  can  carry  the  sequence 
in  his  mind. 

When  the  pictures  are  clear  and  the  order  of  events 
is  fixed,  the  story  should  be  practiced.  This  does  not 
mean  that  it  should  be  learned  verbatim.  Untrained 


Telling  the  Story  63 

narrators  often  make  the  mistake  of  memorizing  para- 
graph by  paragraph  and  sentence  by  sentence,  and 
then  giving  the  tale  like  a  recitation,  which  is  not 
story-telling  at  all.  Story-telling  is  a  constructive, 
creative  art,  and  the  tale  that  grips  and  convinces  and 
inspires  must  be  told  in  a  manner  that  makes  it  seem 
like  the  teller's  own.  Practicing  the  story  means 
facing  an  imaginary  audience  and  describing  so  vividly 
and  clearly  what  is  seen  that  others  may  see  the  pic- 
tures that  pass  before  the  mind's  eye. 

Shall  gesture  and  facial  gymnastics  be  used?  This 
depends  entirely  upon  the  temperament  and  person- 
ality of  the  narrator.  If  it  is  natural  for  him  to  gestic- 
ulate as  he  speaks,  gesture  will  come  spontaneously 
and  will  heighten  the  effect  of  the  tale.  But  if  move- 
ments of  hand  and  head  and  body  are  not  spontaneous, 
they  will  mar  the  rendition  and  scatter  the  interest  of 
the  listeners  by  dividing  it  between  the  teller  and  the 
tale.  Story-telling  then  becomes  touched  with  affecta- 
tion and  loses  its  artistry.  It  degrades  the  story-teller 
into  a  sort  of  acrobatic  performer  and  makes  him  a 
personage  upon  whom  the  attention  is  centered,  which 
is  not  as  it  should  be.  He  is  simply  the  medium 
through  which  the  picture  is  made  clear  to  the  audience. 
He  is  not  an  actor,  and  should  not  occupy  the  center  of 
the  stage.  As  Dr.  Partridge  says:  "The  story-teller 
should  pleasingly  suggest  the  mood  and  scene  of  the 
story,  then  step  into  the  background,  turn  down  the 
lights  on  the  present,  and  carry  his  hearers  to  a  distant 
region,  which  he  must  make,  for  the  time  being,  more 
real  than  the  here  and  now."  This  is  why  the  story- 
teller is  at  his  best  away  from  the  glare  of  electricity, 


64  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

among  the  shadows  of  a  summer  gloaming,  or  by  the 
open  hearth  when  the  firelight  is  dim,  because  then  his 
hearers  do  not  see  him  or  think  of  him,  but  only  of  the 
pictures  and  scenes  painted  by  his  voice  and  words. 

Therefore  let  the  guiding  rule  of  the  narrator  be, 
"  I  must  describe  pictures  so  that  others  will  see  them, 
and  think,  not  of  me,  but  of  the  scenes  to  which  I  lead 
them."  And  he  must  do  it  in  his  individual  way.  If 
gesture  comes  naturally,  it  belongs  in  the  tale.  If  it 
is  studied  and  artificial,  it  destroys  the  effect  and  value. 
Some  of  the  greatest  story-tellers  of  the  past  used  no 
gesture,  while  others  used  body,  head,  and  hands  with 
wonderful  effect.  They  were  persons  of  strong  indi- 
viduality and  did  things  in  an  individual  way.  Let 
the  present-day  story-teller  profit  by  their  example. 

Change  of  voice  in  dialogue  adds  to  clearness  of 
pictures.  Nothing  is  more  colorless  than  a  reading 
by  one  whose  intonation  is  not  in  keeping  with  the 
part  he  interprets,  and  the  story  told  in  a  monotone 
is  boresome  and  valueless  to  the  child.  He  associates 
tone  and  action  and  wants  them  to  be  true  to  each 
other.  He  is  dissatisfied  if  the  old  witch  speaks  like 
a  loving  mother,  while  the  heavy  tones  of  the  wicked 
giant,  the  gentle  ones  of  the  good  fairy,  and  the  mirth- 
ful, rippling  notes  of  the  joyous,  beautiful  maiden 
delight  him  and  make  him  responsive  to  the  tale. 
They  transform  the  personages  of  the  story  into  living, 
breathing  creatures  who  walk  in  his  presence  and  smile 
or  frown  in  his  face. 

Pauses  are  wonderfully  effective  in  heightening  the 
interest  in  a  story.  Children  fairly  quiver  with  ex- 
pectation if  frequent  pauses  are  used  when  the  moments 


Telling  the  Story  65 

of  suspense  grow  big.  They  creep  nearer  in  their 
eagerness  to  hear  about  what  happens  next,  fearing 
that  they  will  miss  a  bit  of  the  attractive  thread.  One 
small  boy,  asked  why  he  took  such  delight  in  listening 
to  a  certain  story-teller,  said:  "I  don't  know  if  it's 
the  way  she  looks  or  the  way  she  says  it.  She'll  be 
going  along,  telling  about  what  happens,  and  all  at 

once  she'll  say,  'And  then '  and  stop  a  little  bit 

until  you  think  all  kinds  of  things  are  going  to  happen." 
This  feeling  is  general  with  children,  although  they 
may  not  voice  it,  and  behind  the  na'ive  words  is  a 
psychological  truth.  The  pause  heightens  the  dramatic 
effect  and  focuses  the  interest  on  the  coming  sentences. 
Above  all  things,  there  should  be  no  stopping  in  the 
midst  of  a  tale  to  correct  a  child.  If  one  shows  evi- 
dence of  lagging  interest,  mention  his  name  as  if  the 
story  were  being  told  for  him.  "  And,  John,  when  little 
Red  Riding  Hood  reached  her  grandmother's  house 
she  knocked  on  the  door."  This  makes  him  feel  that 
although  many  children  are  listening  to  the  story,  it 
is  being  given  solely  for  his  benefit.  It  touches  his 
pride  and  grips  his  attention  long  enough  to  enable 
the  narrator  to  muster  all  his  forces  and  heighten  the 
interest  in  the  tale  so  that  it  will  abound  in  suspense 
from  that  point.  If  it  fails  to  do  that,  something  is 
wrong,  either  with  the  selection  or  the  presentation. 
Perhaps  the  pictures  are  not  being  made  clear  because 
they  were  not  first  clear  in  the  mind  of  the  teller.  Per- 
haps the  story  is  not  an  interesting  one  to  that  par- 
ticular group  of  children.  It  is  the  narrator's  business 
to  find  the  reason,  just  as  artists  in  Europe  must  learn 
what  is  at  fault  when  their  hearers  hiss.  Audiences 


66  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

on  the  Continent  are  not  so  pob'te  as  those  in  America, 
and  there  is  no  mistaking  their  feeling  about  a  perform- 
ance. When  sounds  of  disapproval  sweep  over  the 
house,  the  performer  must  rise  to  heights  that  will 
compel  admiration  or  face  a  ruined  career.  Likewise, 
when  a  small  boy  becomes  troublesome,  the  story- 
teller should  not  pause  to  correct  him,  but  should 
make  the  tale  so  thriUingly  fascinating  that  the  lad 
forgets  to  be  naughty.  Mothers  seldom  meet  with  this 
problem,  but  settlement  workers  are  having  to  solve  it 
constantly,  and  they  do  it  successfully  only  by  knowing 
what  lies  close  to  the  child  interests  and  telling  stories 
that  touch  those  interests. 

There  are  those  who  denounce  story-telling  hi  the 
schoolroom  because  they  happen  to  have  known  of 
poor  story-telling  and  the  disorderly  conduct  that  often 
ensues  when  the  children's  interest  is  not  held.  Not 
long  ago  I  came  across  this  statement  in  the  report 
of  a  lecture  delivered  at  a  teachers'  institute : 

"It  is  to  be  hoped  that  story- telling  will  soon  be 
eliminated  from  the  primary  grades,  and  that  the 
spectacle  of  a  teacher  pausing  in  the  midst  of  a  tale 
to  grasp  a  child  by  the  arm  and  exclaim,  *  Here,  Johnny, 
straighten  up  and  listen,'  will  become  past  history." 

It  certainly  is  to  be  hoped  that  such  story-telling 
will  be  eliminated,  but  it  is  no  more  fair  to  condemn 
story-telling  as  an  art  or  to  deprecate  its  value  as  an 
educational  or  ethical  factor  because  there  is  poor 
story-telling,  than  it  is  to  decry  painting  and  sculpture 
because  there  are  bunglers  with  brushes  and  chisels. 
The  remedy  does  not  lie  in  abolishing  it,  but  in  elevat- 
ing the  standard  of  the  workers  to  a  higher  plane  and 


Telling  the  Story  67 

in  demonstrating  that  story-telling  syncopated  by 
scoldings  and  admonitions  is  not  story-telling  at  all. 

When  shall  we  tell  stories?  Whenever,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  teacher,  a  story  will  do  more  effective 
work  than  something  else.  Do  not  depend  wholly 
on  regular  periods.  These  have  a  place  on  every  school, 
library,  or  settlement  program,  but  the  story  period 
should  not  be  the  only  time  for  telling  stories,  because 
often  a  tale  told  at  the  psychological  moment  will 
make  a  deeper  and  more  lasting  impression  than  those 
given  during  a  dozen  regular  periods.  When  the 
children  are  tired,  tell  a  story  for  rest  and  relaxation. 
If  there  has  been  a  fight  or  swearing,  follow  up  the 
incident  as  soon  as  possible  with  an  apt  narrative. 
It  will  do  more  good  than  moralizing.  If  the  geog- 
raphy class  is  struggling  over  the  map  of  Turkey  and 
can  see  nothing  but  a  series  of  dots  and  marks  on  a 
piece  of  paper,  put  aside  the  formal  recitation  for  that 
day  and  tell  them  of  the  building  of  the  Mosque  of 
Ahmed  the  First  on  the  Golden  Horn,  of  the  merry 
craftsmen  who  raised  the  dome  of  St.  Sophia,  and 
give  them  some  idea  of  how  this  glorious  waif  of  the 
Orient  came  to  stand  on  European  soil.  Make  story- 
telling fit  occasions  and  conditions  instead  of  trying 
to  make  conditions  fit  story-telling. 

And  above  all,  never  moralize !  As  one  authority 
says,  "It  is  bad  pedagogy  and  worse  art."  Remember 
what  Dr.  van  Dyke  says  :  "If  a  story  is  worth  telling, 
moralizing  is  not  necessary."  It  is  not  only  unneces- 
sary, but  harmful.  The  child  sees  for  himself  that 
virtue  is  rewarded  and  evil-doing  is  punished.  He 
resents  not  being  given  credit  for  having  sufficient 


68  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

intelligence  to  understand  it,  and  a  personal  applica- 
tion antagonizes  him. 

Tell  the  tale  in  a  direct,  unassuming  manner  —  not 
as  if  you  are  talking  down  to  a  group  of  children,  but  as 
if  you  are  one  of  the  number,  talking  with  them.  Boys 
and  girls  dislike  the  patronizing  story-teller  as  much 
as  adults  dislike  the  patronizing  person,  and  are  quick 
to  detect  affectation  and  insincerity.  They  will  not 
receive  the  message  a  posing  raconteur  has  to  give, 
because  his  manner  of  delivering  it  irritates  and  es- 
tranges them.  The  successful  story-teller  must  be 
like  the  poet,  a  joy  bringer,  and  he  can  be  that  only 
when  his  work  is  marked  by  sincerity  and  genuineness 
as  clear  as  brook  water. 

BOOKS  ON  STORY-TELLING 

ALLISON,  S.  B.,  and  PERDUE,  H.  A. :  The  Story  in  Primary  Education. 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN  :  For  the  Story-Teller. 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children. 

COE,  FANNY  E. :  First  Book  of  Stories  for  the  Story-Teller;  Second  Book 

of  Stories  for  the  Story-Teller. 
COWLES,  JULIA  D. :   The  Art  of  Story-Telling. 
DYE,  CHARITY  :   The  Story-Teller's  Art. 
FORBUSH,  WILLIAM  B. :  Story-Telling  in  the  Home. 
KEYES,  ANGELA  M. :  Stories  and  Story-Telling. 
LINDSAY,  MAUD:   The  Story-Teller  for  Little  Children. 
LYMAN,  EDNA:  Story-Telling:  What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It. 
McMuRRY,  CHARLES  A. :  Special  Method  in  Primary  Reading  and  Oral 

Work,  with  Stories. 
PARTRIDGE,  EMELYN  N.  and  GEORGE  E. :   Story-Telling  in  the  Home 

and  School. 

ST.  JOHN,  PORTER  :    The  Story  in  Moral  and  Religious  Education. 
SHEDLOCK,  MARIE  L. :   The  Art  of  the  Story-Teller. 
WILTSE,  SARA  E. :   The  Place  of  the  Story  in  Early  Education. 
WYCHE,  RICHARD  THOMAS  :  Some  Great  Stories  and  How  to  Tell  Them. 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

STORY-TELLING  TO  LEAD  TO  AN  APPRECIATION  OF 
LITERATURE 

ONE  of  the  specific  aims  of  education  is  to  endow 
children  with  an  appreciation  of  literature,  and 
to  this  end  much  of  a  teacher's  energy  is  directed. 
From  the  elementary  school  through  the  university 
the  curriculum  includes  a  course  in  English,  and  even 
in  kindergarten  and  primary  grades  a  point  is  made 
of  introducing  children  to  those  authors  whose  work 
is  conceded  to  have  a  strong  appeal  for  them.  The 
first,  second,  or  third  grade  boy  is  required  to  read 
and  memorize  selections  from  Stevenson,  Riley,  and 
Eugene  Field;  not  infrequently  he  is  detained  after 
school  because  of  failure  to  have  his  lesson  prepared 
at  recitation  time,  and  responds  to  the  requirement 
in  a  mood  that  brings  discouragement  to  his  teacher. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  schools  in  which  the 
literature  or  reading  hour  is  a  period  of  joy,  where  the 
learning  of  songs  of  the  singers  of  childhood  is  ac- 
complished without  coercion.  These  schools  are  the 
ones  in  which  the  teachers  have  learned  that  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  to  be  of  real  value,  must  be 
attended  with  enjoyment. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  believe  that  although  the  function 
of  the  school  is  to  equip  the  man,  the  aim  of  education 
is  only  to  give  enjoyment  in  the  future.  It  is  also  the 
aim  of  education  to  give  enjoyment  now,  because  in  this 
way  capacity  for  enjoyment  in  the  future  is  made 
possible.  The  boy  or  girl  whose  early  association  with 
poetry  or  beautiful  prose  is  attended  with  displeasure 

69 


70  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  discomfort  is  no  more  likely  to  be  drawn  to  the 
finer  types  of  literature  later  than  the  man  or  woman 
is  apt  to  be  fond  of  a  person,  the  first  meeting  with  whom 
was  a  disagreeable  experience.  If  we  would  have  the 
man  love  good  literature,  we  must  first  lead  the  child 
to  love  good  literature,  and  we  can  do  this  only  through 
having  him  enjoy  good  literature. 

Because  story-telling  brings  pleasure  to  the  child, 
it  is  a  most  effective  means  of  leading  him  to  an  ap- 
preciation of  literature.  Through  the  medium  of  the 
story  we  not  only  can  heighten  his  capacity  for  en- 
joyment and  elevate  the  standard  of  his  taste,  but  we 
can  equip  him  with  knowledge  he  will  never  acquire 
if  the  literature  period  is  associated  with  force  and 
punishment.  If  a  tale  brings  pleasing  pictures  before 
his  eyes  and  is  beautiful  in  theme  and  language,  he 
unconsciously  forms  a  taste  for  beautiful  language, 
for  he  is  not  only  getting  the  succession  of  events  that 
make  the  plot,  but  is  also  absorbing  words  and  expres- 
sions. Certain  sentences  stick  in  his  memory,  and 
teachers  who  have  children  reproduce  stories  know  that 
frequently  they  use  the  exact  phrases  and  sentences 
that  have  been  used  by  the  teller.  They  do  not  re- 
member these  for  a  day  or  an  hour  and  then  forget 
them ;  they  remember  them  as  years  go  by,  and  as- 
sociate certain  words  with  certain  narratives. 

William  McKinley  once  said  that  the  mention  of 
willows  by  a  river  made  him  think  of  the  story  of 
Moses  in  the  bulrushes,  and  brought  to  mind  this 
sentence:  "And  she  hid  the  basket  among  the  rushes 
in  a  spot  where  willows  hung  over  the  river."  The 
story  had  been  told  him  in  childhood  and  brought  him 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature     71 

enjoyment,  and  some  of  the  narrator's  expressions  left 
a  lasting  imprint  on  his  mind.  "  I  believe  that  story, 
more  than  anything  else,"  he  once  said,  "gave  me  a 
fondness  for  elegant  English." 

James  A.  Garfield  voiced  almost  the  same  thought, 
declaring  that  his  taste  for  literature  was  shaped  by 
stories  from  great  authors  told  him  by  his  mother 
during  his  early  years,  and  many  other  men  of  achieve- 
ment have  attested  to  the  same  truth.  They  have 
proved  conclusively  out  of  their  own  experience  that 
even  with  little  children  it  is  possible  to  lay  a  founda- 
tion upon  which  a  noble  and  enduring  structure  can 
be  built.  We  can  give  them  an  appreciation  of  stories 
and  poems  that  are  among  the  gems  of  literature. 

We  can  also  interest  children  in  the  life  of  an  author 
so  that  they  will  want  to  know  something  of  his  work. 
This  statement  often  brings  the  question,  "How, 
since  little  children  want  stories  that  are  full  of  action, 
and  not  biographies  of  men  and  women  they  never 
have  seen?"  Is  it  not  true  that  the  childhood  of  all 
great  men  contained  interesting  experiences,  that  if 
told  as  stories  will  lead  little  people  to  want  to  know 
about  what  these  boys  and  girls  did  when  they  grew 
up? 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson  is  a  good  example.  Every 
child  will  listen  sympathetically  to  the  tale  of  the 
poor  little  rich  boy  who  was  often  so  ill  that  he  could 
not  run  and  play,  but  who  made  the  best  of  things 
and  amused  himself  with  toys  on  his  bed.  He  built 
cities  out  of  blocks.  He  watched  the  lamplighter 
go  on  his  evening  rounds  along  the  street,  and  some- 
times in  the  summer,  the  dewy,  Scotch  summer  that  can 


72  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

be  pictured  so  attractively  to  children,  when  he  went 
with  his  nurse  to  the  country  or  the  shore,  he  put 
leaves  and  chips  in  the  river  and  pretended  that  they 
were  boats.  He  dug  holes  in  the  sand  with  his  wooden 
spade  and  laughed  to  see  the  vagrant  waves  come  up 
and  fill  them.  The  child  who  hears  about  his  various 
experiences  will  become  intensely  interested  in  little 
Robert,  and  will  grow  to  love  "The  Land  of  Counter- 
pane," "The  River,"  "At  the  Seashore,"  and  other 
selections  from  A  Child's  Garden  of  Verses.  Every 
time  he  reads  or  hears  them  he  will  see  a  picture  of  the 
wee  Scotch  lad  whose  story  touched  his  heart. 

This  is  no  untried  theory.  Through  story-telling, 
the  author  of  Treasure  Island  has  become  a  living 
personage  and  A  Child's  Garden  of  Verses  a  source 
of  delight  in  more  than  one  first  grade.  A  teacher 
who  had  charge  of  forty  little  Italians  devoted  fifteen 
minutes  each  morning  to  stories  of  writers  and  their 
works,  and  by  the  end  of  the  term  the  children  had  a 
knowledge  of  Stevenson  and  Field  that  amazed  the 
superintendent.  More  valuable  than  the  knowledge 
acquired  was  the  capacity  for  real  enjoyment  of  some 
of  the  works  of  these  men,  enjoyment  so  intense  that 
during  the  half  hour  of  song  and  games  that  was  a 
feature  of  every  Friday,  it  was  not  unusual  for  a  small 
Tony  or  Gulielmo  to  flutter  a  brown  hand  and  ask  to 
be  permitted  to  recite : 

Of  speckled  eggs  the  birdie  sings, 
And  nests  among  the  trees. 

Another  teacher  was  rewarded  for  her  work  by 
hearing  the  mother  of  one  of  her  pupils  tell  at  a  parent- 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature     73 

teachers'  meeting  of  how  a  certain  little  lad  amused 
himself  while  recuperating  from  measles  by  enter- 
taining the  household  with  songs  from  Stevenson  and 
stories  about  little  Robert,  who  became  the  big  Robert 
that  wrote  the  book. 

In  doing  this  sort  of  work,  however,  it  is  necessary 
to  keep  in  mind  the  story  interests  of  childhood,  to 
remember  that  children  are  interested  in  children, 
and  not  begin,  "When  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  was  a 
little  boy,"  but  rather,  "  Once  there  was  a  little  boy  who 
lived  far  away  from  here,  and  his  name  was  Robert." 
Let  the  approach  be  from  the  child  to  the  man  instead 
of  from  the  man  to  the  child.  Focus  the  interest  of 
children  upon  one  like  themselves,  then  lead  in  a  natural 
way  to  the  man  and  his  achievements. 

Sometimes  children  can  be  interested  in  a  piece  of 
literature  through  a  story  about  it  or  suggested  by  it, 
because  often  one  tale  helps  to  illuminate  and  clarify 
and  add  interest  to  another. 

Suppose  a  primary  teacher  or  a  mother  wishes  to 
take  up  Tennyson's  "Sweet  and  Low,"  a  piece  of 
literature  that  is  either  a  succession  of  vivid,  delightful 
pictures  or  a  vague  group  of  words,  according  to  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  presented.  Tell  of  the  baby  who 
lived  with  the  father  and  mother  in  a  fishing  village 
on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  Each  day  the  father  had  to  go 
far  out  to  sea  in  a  boat  to  catch  fish  to  sell  for  money 
with  which  to  buy  food  for  his  dear  ones,  and  each 
night  the  baby  laughed  and  crowed  when  he  came  home. 
Once  he  stayed  later  than  usual,  and  baby  did  not  want 
to  go  to  bed  without  seeing  him ;  but  the  mother  sang 
a  pretty  song,  saying  that  father  would  soon  be  home, 


74  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  crooned  and  rocked  her  little  one  until  he  fell  asleep. 
It  was  a  pleasant  evening,  with  a  big,  silver  moon, 
and  a  man  was  out  walking  —  a  rich  man  who  lived 
in  a  house  on  a  hill  high  above  the  fishers'  huts.  As 
he  went  by  the  cottage  where  the  baby  lived,  he  heard 
the  mother  singing,  and  the  song  was  so  sweet  that  he 
hurried  home  and  wrote  what  it  made  him  think  about. 
Then  follow  with  the  poem,  and  the  children  will  re- 
ceive it  gladly. 

This  same  plan  can  be  used  with  older  children,  but 
let  the  material  be  given  in  story  form  instead  of  as  a 
series  of  disconnected  incidents. 

An  excellent  method  is  to  give  the  story  of  a  great 
writer's  work.  This  is  effective  with  children  of  all 
ages,  and  often  leads  to  the  reading  of  books  that  other- 
wise would  never  be  opened.  Sometimes  the  objection 
is  made  that  it  is  wrong  to  substitute  the  story  of  a 
work  for  the  work  itself,  a  statement  no  thinking  person 
will  gainsay.  But  this  does  not  mean  substitution. 
It  means  whetting  the  appetite  until  the  child  hungers 
for  the  thing  you  want  him  to  have.  Instead  of  telling 
him  what  he  should  read,  arouse  his  curiosity  to  the 
point  where  he  wants  to  read  it,  and  the  desired  result 
will  follow.  Fifty  years  ago  it  was  safe  -to  give  a  boy 
or  a  girl  a  beautiful  piece  of  literature  and  tell  him  he 
ought  to  read  it,  but  it  is  not  safe  now,  not  because 
there  is  anything  wrong  with  the  children  of  our  time, 
but  because  conditions  are  different.  Books  were  rare 
and  costly  then,  and  young  people  read  whatever 
came  to  hand.  Today  books  are  cheap  and  plentiful, 
and  present-day  literature  plunges  directly  into  the 
complications  of  the  story.  People  are  in  a  hurry  to 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature     75 

know  what  it  is  all  about,  because  of  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  There  is  less  leisure  now  than  there  was  half 
a  century  ago,  as  there  is  more  competition,  and  re- 
sults must  be  realized  more  rapidly  than  our  fore- 
fathers realized  them.  Consequently  we  travel  faster, 
get  rich  faster,  and  move  more  speedily  in  every  way. 
Present-day  literature  reflects  present-day  spirit,  and 
the  story  must  begin  with  the  opening  sentence.  Boys 
and  girls  simply  will  not  go  through  pages  of  intro- 
ductions and  descriptions  before  striking  the  plot  of 
the  tale,  no  matter  how  beautiful  those  introductions 
and  descriptions  may  be.  They  want  books  that 
get  somewhere  from  the  beginning.  So  the  problem 
confronts  all  who  are  interested  in  the  education  of 
children:  "How  can  we  make  them  as  eager  to  read 
Dickens,  Scott,  and  Thackeray  as  they  are  to  read 
Jack  London  and  Phillips  Oppenheim  ?  How  can  they 
be  made  to  go  as  gladly  to  Bulwer  Lytton  as  they  go  to 
the  Henty  books?"  By  means  of  story-telling.  Give 
them  an  idea  of  the  plots  of  the  masters  of  literature, 
enough  to  whet  the  desire  to  know  more  about  them. 

It  is  not  sufficient  just  to  tell  the  story,  because  it 
was  not  the  plots  of  these  writers  that  made  them  great 
artists.  It  was  their  manner  of  handling  their  plots, 
their  delineation  of  character,  the  philosophy  and 
human  wisdom  they  put  into  the  mouths  of  their  heroes, 
and  the  boy  or  girl  who  does  not  become  acquainted 
with  these  great  creators  during  school  days  is  likely 
never  to  know  them,  because  he  forms  a  taste  for  read- 
ing of  a  more  ephemeral  nature,  and  he  may  go  through 
life  a  devourer  of  books,  yet  be  only  half  educated. 

Why  is  it  that  so  many  young  people  never  look  at 


76  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  English  classics  after  they  leave  high  school,  and 
would  rather  spend  a  morning  at  hard  labor  than  in 
reading  As  You  Like  It  or  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream?  Because  too  much  attention  was  given  to 
the  dissecting  process  when  they  studied  these  plays. 
Instead  of  being  taught  to  see  the  beautiful  and  finished 
creation  of  some  master,  they  were  made  to  see  the 
skeleton  and  to  pull  it  to  pieces.  Some  teachers  assign 
a  certain  number  of  pages  or  paragraphs  or  stanzas 
for  a  lesson,  and  the  pupils  look  up  the  words  in  the 
dictionary,  point  out  the  figures  of  speech,  and  scan 
the  lines.  Sometimes  the  teacher  reads  the  assign- 
ment when  it  is  made.  Sometimes  children  dramatize 
it  after  they  have  torn  it  into  shreds,  or  write  a  para- 
phrase. But  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  masterpiece, 
the  sheer  beauty  of  it,  are  considered  least  of  all,  and 
students  end  by  heartily  hating  something  that  they 
might  have  enjoyed  and  loved.  Yet  people  wonder 
why  the  average  American  has  so  little  appreciation 
of  good  literature,  and  think  something  is  wrong  with 
young  folk  who,  after  a  high-school  course  in  English, 
will  read  nothing  but  popular  novels.  There  is  noth- 
ing whatsoever  the  matter  with  the  boys  and  girls. 
They  simply  follow  the  bent  of  all  human  beings  and 
steer  from  the  unpleasant  toward  the  pleasant.  They 
go  to  the  books  of  the  day  that  they  can  understand, 
because  much  of  our  great  literature,  presented  as  it 
is,  means  nothing  to  them.  Less  fortunate  than 
youths  of  fifty  years  ago,  they  are  not  forced  to  read 
good  books  if  they  read  at  all.  There  are  verdant, 
if  less  beautiful,  meadows  on  every  side  where  they 
may  browse,  and  into  them  they  go. 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature      77 

It  is  infinitely  better  that  a  child's  school  life  provide 
him  with  a  capacity  for  the  enjoyment  of  literature 
than  that  he  have  a  technical  knowledge  of  a  few 
pieces  of  literature,  because  the  latter  endows  him  with 
a  narrow,  academic  viewpoint,  while  the  former  makes 
possible  a  future  growth,  without  a  capacity  for  which 
life  must  be  narrow  and  one-sided.  A  boy  or  girl 
may  know  that  Shakespeare  wrote  Twelfth  Night  or 
Macbeth,  that  Milton  created  "The  Hymn  to  the 
Nativity"  or  SheUey  "The  Skylark,"  be  able  to  para- 
phrase each  and  analyze  the  sentences  that  comprise 
them,  and  not  be  a  bit  better  fitted  for  life  than  he  would 
be  without  that  knowledge.  But  he  is  better  equipped 
for  life  if  he  has  acquired  a  capacity  for  the  enjoyment 
of  literature,  so  that  to  read  a  great  book  gives  him 
pleasure  or  causes  him  to  respond  with  sympathy,  and 
the  English  teacher  who  does  not  develop  this  capacity 
in  children  has  failed  in  his  function. 

The  approach  to  the  great  field  of  literature  must  be 
through  specific  examples,  just  as  the  approach  to  an 
understanding  of  art  or  architecture  must  be  through 
the  canvases  of  Raphael,  Cimabue,  or  Giotto,  or  the 
temples  that  were  the  triumphs  of  Egyptian,  Babylo- 
nian, or  Hellenic  builders.  But  if  they  are  to  be  en- 
joyed, acquaintance  with  these  specific  examples  must 
be  made  in  a  pleasurable  manner.  They  first  must  be 
beheld  in  a  perspective  that  gives  glimpses  of  them  as 
complete  and  beautiful  wholes,  and  not  through  the  de- 
tailed workmanship  of  architrave  or  abacus  or  by  focus- 
ing the  attention  on  the  massing  of  figures  according  to 
square  or  triangular  outline.  And  just  as  the  under- 
standing and  enjoyment  of  one  great  structure  or  paint- 


78  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ing  give  added  interest  to  every  other  one,  so,  in  the 
realm  of  literature,  each  masterpiece  enjoyed  gives 
capacity  for  the  enjoyment  of  every  other  masterpiece 
met  with  in  the  future.  Therefore  the  story,  because 
it  is  a  means  of  flashing  the  entire  structure  on  the  screen 
and  making  it  possible  for  children  to  see  the  completed 
whole  in  all  its  beauty,  is  the  English  teacher's  most 
valuable  tool. 

Take  Evangeline  as  an  example.  Most  children  leave 
school  knowing  that  Longfellow  wrote  that  poem,  and 
that  Evangeline  lost  her  lover  on  the  wedding  day  and 
spent  the  remainder  of  her  life  seeking  him.  But 
you  cannot  coax  them  to  read  the  poem  again  because 
of  the  memory  of  the  time  when  they  studied  it.  And 
the  pity  of  it  is  that  there  is  no  work  of  American 
literature  so  appealing  to  boys  and  girls  in  the  adoles- 
cent period  as  Evangeline,  if  it  is  presented  wisely. 

Before  they  are  asked  to  study  it,  if  the  story  of  the 
Acadian  girl  is  told  sympathetically  and  feelingly  they 
are  touched  by  its  pathos  and  fired  by  the  idealism  of 
its  characters,  and  they  feel  the  charm  of  life  in  the 
quaint  old  village  of  Grand  Pre.  If,  before  they  are 
told  to  read  it,  they  have  gone  with  the  heroine  through 
the  magic  of  the  narrator's  picturing,  in  her  wanderings 
over  mountain  and  lowland,  into  Indian  camp  and 
sequestered  mission,  living  among  strange  peoples  and 
sleeping  by  strange  fires,  they  will  read  it  with  enthu- 
siasm. It  will  become  a  joy  instead  of  a  burden,  be- 
cause they  will  have  felt  something  of  what  was  in  the 
heart  of  the  poet  who  wrote  it,  and  not  merely  what 
appeared  on  the  printed  page. 

Besides  the  main  thread  of  the  story,  there  are  many 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature      79 

sub-stories  that,  if  told  in  connection  with  the  poem, 
will  add  to  the  child's  enjoyment  and  understanding 
of  it.  Sometimes  a  name  is  rich  in  story  material,  yet 
often  it  is  passed  over  with  nothing  more  than  a  def- 
inition found  in  the  pronouncing  gazetteer,  and  a 
golden  opportunity  is  lost. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  line,  "Now  in  the  Tents  of 
Grace  of  the  gentle  Moravian  missions."  There  is  a 
footnote  in  most  editions  stating,  "This  refers  to  the 
Moravian  mission  of  Gnadenhiitten."  But  what  does 
that  signify  to  children,  since  there  were  many  missions 
in  those  early  days  ?  But  if  they  are  told  of  how  the 
Moravians  came  from  the  distant  German  mountains 
to  plant  the  tree  of  their  faith  in  the  Western  wilds, 
they  grow  interested.  They  are  fascinated  as  the  tale 
goes  on,  picturing  how  these  simple  folk  founded  a 
mission  in  the  woods  of  Ohio,  which  they  named 
"Gnadenhiitten"  or  "Tents  of  Grace,"  and  telling  how 
a  massacre  occurred  there  in  1790,  not  savages  killing 
off  whites,  but  a  band  of  marauding  British  troops 
slaughtering  Christianized  Indians  as  they  toiled  peace- 
fully in  their  cornfields.  Then,  as  Evangeline  roams 
over  the  Southwest,  into  the  bayou  country  of  Loui- 
siana, if  pictures  of  the  early  life  there  are  painted 
vividly  by  the  story-teller,  if  she  gives  some  of  the 
events  of  old  Creole  days,  the  children  will  look  for- 
ward to  the  Evangeline  period. 

This  same  method  will  add  enjoyment  to  the  study 
of  other  pieces  of  literature.  The  Courtship  of  Miles 
Standish,  aside  from  the  main  plot,  is  rich  in  stories 
from  the  Bible.  The  children  should  look  up  these 
allusions,  but  the  teacher  should  put  life  into  them 


80  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

by  giving  the  story.  In  fact,  there  is  no  piece  of  liter- 
ature studied  below  the  high  school,  or  even  during 
the  early  part  of  the  high-school  course,  that  cannot 
be  presented  with  splendid  results  through  the  story- 
telling method.  The  concrete  precedes  the  abstract 
in  the  order  in  which  selections  are  considered,  those 
through  which  a  story  thread  runs  being  given  in  ad- 
vance of  the  essay  or  treatise.  By  making  the  most  of 
this  story  thread,  literature  study  will  become  pleasur- 
able and  bring  splendid  response  from  the  children.  It 
requires  effort  and  preparation,  but  it  pays.  It  is 
worth  much  to  the  teacher  who  loves  good  literature, 
to  look  back  over  the  years  and  think  of  the  children 
she  has  led  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  it.  It  is  a  tre- 
mendous satisfaction  to  have  boys  come  back  long 
after  leaving  her  schoolroom  and  seek  her  out,  because 
through  her  they  learned  to  know  something  of  the 
comfort  that  is  to  be  found  in  good  old  books.  One 
teacher,  speaking  of  her  experience,  said :  "It  made  all 
the  effort  seem  richly  worth  while,  when  a  broad- 
shouldered,  sun-burned  man  went  three  hundred  miles 
out  of  his  way  to  see  me  on  a  home  visit  to  America, 
and  thank  me  for  having  led  him  to  enjoy  poetry." 
As  a  boy  he  became  intensely  interested  in  The  Lady 
of  the  Lake  because  his  teacher  gave  the  stories  of  Fitz- 
James  and  Roderick  Dhu  and  of  the  clan  life  of  the 
Highlands,  and  a  pocket  edition  of  Scott  was  a  source 
of  comfort  to  him  during  a  surveying  expedition  in  the 
wilds  of  West  Australia,  and  took  away  the  loneliness  of 
nights  spent  by  a  camp  fire  with  no  companions  save  the 
native  woodmen.  He  had  learned  to  know  Scott  during 
his  boyhood,  and  the  capacity  for  enjoyment  acquired 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Literature      81 

through  that  association  was  a  priceless  possession  to 
the  man.  If  more  teachers  realized  that  story-telling 
is  a  direct  road  to  the  understanding  of  literature,  and 
that  it  has  its  place  in  grammar  and  high-school  grades 
as  much  as  in  the  kindergarten,  there  would  be  less 
drudgery  for  them  and  more  satisfying  results. 

SOME  AUTHORS  AND  SELECTIONS  THAT  CAN  BE  PRESENTED 
THROUGH  THE  STORY-TELLING  METHOD 

BROWNING  :  Herv6  Kiel  (Give  picture  of  life  of  sailors  on  the  Breton 
coast.  Herve  Kiel  was  so  accustomed  to  taking  fishing  boats 
through  the  passage  that  the  piloting  of  the  ship  did  not  seem  any 
feat  to  him) ;  How  They  Brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent 
to  Aix;  An  Incident  of  the  French  Camp;  The  Pied  Piper  of 
Hamelin  (Tell  how  the  poet  came  to  write  this  work  —  to  entertain 
a  child  who  was  visiting  him). 

BRYANT:  The  White-footed  Deer;  The  Woodman  and  the  Sandal 
Tree;  The  Donkey  and  the  Mocking  Bird,  and  other  poems 
from  the  Spanish. 

DICKENS:  Little  Nell  (Old  Curiosity  Shop);  Tiny  Tim  (Christmas 
Carol) ;  Nicholas  Nickleby ;  David  Copperfield,  and  other  child 
characters  of  Dickens. 

GEORGE  ELJOT:  Maggie  Tulliver  Cutting  her  Hair,  Maggie  Run- 
ning Away  to  Live  with  the  Gypsies,  Tom  and  the  Ferrets  (The 
Mill  on  the  Floss) ;  Silas  Marner  and  Little  Eppie  (Silas  Marner). 

IRVING  :  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow  (The  Sketch  Book) ;  The  Governor 
and  the  Notary  (Other  stories  from  Tales  from  the  Alhambra) ; 
The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Christopher  Columbus  (Many  chapters 
in  this  contain  fascinating  stories,  which  if  told  to  the  children 
will  lead  them  to  read  the  work) ;  Rip  Van  Winkle  (The  Sketch 
Book)  (Tell  also  the  German  story  of  Peter  Glaus,  from  which 
Irving  drew  his  inspiration  to  write  this  tale;  also  the  Chinese 
story,  "The  Feast  of  Lanterns,"  the  hero  of  which  is  an  oriental 
Rip  Van  Winkle). 

KINGSLEY  :  How  They  Took  the  Gold  Train  (Westward  Ho!) ;  Water 
Babies;  Hypatia. 

LONGFELLOW  :  Evangeline ;  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish ;  Hiawatha ; 
King  Robert  of  Sicily;  St.  Francis'  Sermon  to  the  Birds  (Tell 


82  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

story  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi) ;  Paul  Revere's  Ride ;  The  Emperor's 
Bird's  Nest ;  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide  (In  this  connection  tell 
story  of  Walther  and  the  Minnesingers.  Story  can  be  found  in  Pan 
and  His  Pipes,  and  Other  Stories,  Victor  Talking  Machine  Com- 
pany). 

SOUTHEY:  Inchcape  Rock;  Bishop  Hatto  and  the  Mouse  Tower; 
The  Well  of  St.  Keyne. 

STEVENSON  :  Treasure  Island ;  Kidnapped ;  Island  Nights'  Entertain- 
ment. 

TENNYSON  :  The  Holy  Grail  (This  poem  is  beyond  the  understanding  of 
boys  and  girls  of  grammar  grades,  or  even  early  high-school  years, 
but  they  may  be  familiarized  with  portions  of  it,  and  the  Grail 
story  is  a  wonderful  one  to  give  them.  It  should  include  also  the 
tale  of  "Parsifal"  and  "Lohengrin,"  as  related  by  Wolfram  von 
Eschenbach  and  Wagner). 

This  list  is  in  no  way  comprehensive,  but  the  wide- 
awake teacher  will  find  it  suggestive  of  a  much  longer 
one,  which  is  as  much  as  the  author  of  a  single  text- 
book may  hope  for. 

SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  TO  LEAD  TO  AN  APPRECIATION  OF 
LITERATURE 

LAMB,  CHARLES  and  MARY  :   Tales  from  Shakespeare. 
LANG,  JEANIE  :   Stories  from  Shakespeare  Told  to  the  Children. 
SWEETSER,  KATE  D. :    Boys  and  Girls  from  George  Eliot;    Boys  and 

Girls  from  Thackeray;   Ten  Boys  from  Dickens. 
SWINTON,  WILLIAM,  and  CATHCART,  GEORGE  R. :    Book  of  Tales  from 

Fine  Authors. 


CHAPTER  NINE 

STORY-TELLING  TO  AWAKEN  AN  APPRECIATION  OF 

Music 


public  school  aims  not  only  to  give  boys  and 
JL  girls  a  training  that  shall  equip  them  with 
ability  to  gain  a  livelihood  and  provide  for  their  ma- 
terial wants,  but  to  give  them  resources  within  them- 
selves from  which  to  draw  pleasure,  broaden  and 
deepen  the  emotional  powers,  enrich  the  soul  by  en- 
dowing it  with  capacity  to  respond  to  the  beautiful  and 
fine,  and  make  them  more  sympathetic  toward  the  joys 
and  sorrows  of  their  fellows.  That  is  why  the  curricu- 
lum includes  a  course  in  music,  drawing,  and  subjects 
that  are  branches  of  a  great  art.  We  do  not  expect 
to  make  professional  musicians  or  painters  of  all  the 
children  who  receive  instruction,  but  aim  to  give  the 
average  child,  the  one  who  will  grow  to  be  an  average, 
ordinary  man,  an  appreciation  of  the  things  that  give 
color  and  beauty  to  life  and  make  him  richer  in  mind 
and  happier. 

Taste  is  formed  by  what  is  heard  in  youth,  and  the 
child  whose  early  years  are  associated  with  ragtime 
grows  to  be  a  devotee  of  ragtime,  while  he  who  hears 
the  music  of  the  masters  becomes  a  man  who  loves 
great  music.  This  is  why  the  average  European  has 
a  knowledge  and  love  of  melody  that  amazes  Ameri- 
cans. He  has  heard  good  music  from  infancy.  It  is 
sung  in  the  public  meeting  places  of  his  town  and 
whistled  in  the  streets.  The  gamin  of  Naples,  Rome, 
and  Venice  knows  the  arias  from  the  operas  as  well  as 
American  children  know  their  national  anthem,  and 

83 


84  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Verdi,  Donizetti,  and  Rossini  are  more  than  names 
to  him.  He  has  heard  their  melodies  from  infancy, 
and  his  father  or  uncle  or  some  street  story-teller  has 
familiarized  him  with  the  plots  of  their  librettos.  He 
knows  something  of  the  artists  who  sing  the  roles, 
also,  because  the  tailor  and  the  barber  and  the  baker 
not  infrequently  go  to  hear  them,  and  they  are  a  topic 
of  conversation  in  the  home.  Here  in  America  we 
have  not  had  such  opportunities.  With  us  the  opera 
and  the  symphony  orchestra  are  exotics  which  only  a 
minority  has  been  trained  to  enjoy,  and  consequently 
we  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  musical  people. 

It  is  natural  that  this  should  be  so,  because,  as  com- 
pared with  Continental  lands,  we  are  very  young,  and 
youth  cannot  hope  to  compete  with  maturity.  But 
artistic  standards  in  the  United  States  are  being  raised 
steadily.  Most  of  our  great  cities  now  have  symphony 
orchestras  and  a  season  of  opera,  while  the  municipal 
band  concert  is  part  of  the  life  of  comparatively  small 
towns,  and  the  programs  are  of  a  higher  order  than 
formerly.  We  are  on  the  upward  move,  and  meanwhile 
every  leader  of  children  should  do  his  part  in  the  great 
work  of  helping  to  elevate  the  national  musical 
standard. 

The  schools  are  doing  something,  but  not  enough, 
because  much  of  the  instruction  they  give  is  of  a  techni- 
cal nature,  and  although  pupils  can  read  in  several 
keys  and  beat  time  correctly,  it  does  not  follow  that 
they  are  acquiring  a  capacity  for  the  enjoyment  of 
good  music.  Until  one  has  sufficient  mental  develop- 
ment to  understand  something  of  the  price  that  must 
be  paid  for  artistic  success,  much  attention  to  the 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Music         85 

technical  vitiates  interest  in  music,  just  as  the  dissect- 
ing method  of  study  kills  interest  in  literature.  Many 
teachers  make  more  of  an  effort  to  have  children  learn 
to  read  music  than  they  do  to  have  them  enjoy  it,  and 
this  close  attention  to  the  mechanics  of  the  art  makes 
the  music  period  burdensome  instead  of  enjoyable. 
Before  the  child  can  see  any  incentive  in  learning  do — 
re — mi,  he  must  hear  and  enjoy  music  and  must  under- 
stand that  do — re — mi  is  a  key  that  will  unlock  gates 
into  larger  fields  of  enjoyment.  Because  the  hour  is 
replete  with  drudgery  rather  than  joy,  the  discipline 
of  the  music  class  is  often  a  good  deal  of  a  problem, 
and  although  it  is  not  an  ideal  condition,  it  exists  more 
frequently  than  most  people  realize.  A  teacher  whose 
class  distinguished  itself  in  sight  singing  at  an  institute, 
was  asked  how  she  made  its  members  so  proficient. 

"Simply  by  keeping  a  strap  on  my  desk  and  using 
it  about  every  seven  minutes,"  she  replied ;  "and  those 
who  did  not  have  actual  contact  with  it  kept  straight 
because  they  knew  it  was  there." 

This  is  perhaps  an  extreme  case,  but  the  school- 
rooms in  which  the  music  lesson  is  a  period  of  nervous 
strain  for  both  teacher  and  pupils  are  numerous,  and 
it  is  not  strange  that  sometimes  trustees  question 
whether  it  might  not  be  well  to  eliminate  music  from 
the  list  of  public-school  subjects. 

An  adage  of  the  old  Italian  school  of  vocalists, 
whose  methods  have  given  so  many  glorious  songsters 
to  the  world,  was,  "To  sing,  you  must  be  happy," 
and  one  of  the  most  celebrated  prima  donnas  of  today 
attributes  a  large  measure  of  her  success  to  the  fact 
that  during  childhood  her  mother  had  the  wisdom 


86  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

never  to  make  music  burdensome  by  forcing  her  tc  it, 
but  played  for  her  and  sang  to  her  without  stint,  giv- 
ing her  countless  opportunities  of  hearing  music  and 
leading  her  to  love  it.  Then  when  she  began  formal 
study  at  twelve,  her  teacher  did  not  harass  her  with 
exercises,  but  gave  simple  songs  that  she  liked  to  sing, 
songs  chosen  to  give  her  voice  the  exercise  it  needed 
and  to  appeal  to  the  natural  love  of  melody. 

We  might  well  apply  this  plan  to  our  public-school 
music,  and  arrange  courses  so  that  children  will  hear 
much  good  music,  even  if  the  amount  of  technical 
work  has  to  be  greatly  lessened.  It  is  here  that  the 
story  may  do  its  far-reaching  work  in  helping  to  make 
the  music  period  pleasurable  to  the  children  and  caus- 
ing them  to  respond  with  keener  pleasure  to  a  higher 
standard  of  music. 

Many  narrators  exclaim,  "It  is  not  possible  for  me 
to  lead  children  to  appreciate  the  great  music  when 
I  do  not  know  the  great  music  myself." 

But  it  is  possible.  Of  course  it  is  easier  for  one  who 
is  familiar  with  the  masterpieces  of  melody  to  lead 
children  to  them  than  for  one  who  is  not;  but  even 
though  the  mother  or  teacher  was  not  in  her  own 
childhood  familiar  with  Mozart  or  Mendelssohn,  she 
can  bring  children  to  appreciate  these  artists  because 
the  talking  machine  has  made  it  possible.  She  need 
not  try  to  acquaint  them  with  the  technical  terms,  and 
mechanics  of  music,  but  she  can  arouse  an  interest 
that  is  the  twin  sister  of  inspiration,  and  she  can  do 
it  in  such  a  way  that  every  minute  devoted  to  the 
work  is  filled  with  delight.  She  can  tell  the  life  story 
of  some  great  composer  and  familiarize  the  child  with 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Music         87 

selections  from  his  work  that  will  guide  him  away  from 
the  cheap  and  tawdry.  She  can  give  him  incidents 
connected  with  the  composition  of  musical  gems,  and 
a  glimpse  into  the  great  treasure  house  of  musical 
literature  that  will  cause  him  to  want  to  know  more  of 
the  achievements  of  the  immortal  melody  makers.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  one  be  a  musician  in  order  to 
do  this.  Most  schools  and  many  homes  are  now 
supplied  with  talking  machines,  and  the  records  manu- 
factured by  the  different  companies  bring  masterpieces 
within  the  reach  of  all.  Even  the  catalogs  are  rich  in 
suggestion,  and  following  the  cues  supplied  by  them, 
a  little  thought  and  labor  will  bring  most  gratifying 
results.  Almost  all  the  great  composers  had  eventful 
childhoods,  and  the  early  days  of  Mendelssohn, 
Mozart,  Bach,  Haydn,  Handel,  Beethoven,  Chopin, 
Verdi,  Wagner,  and  many  others  are  rich  in  incidents 
that  children  enjoy  hearing.  These  biographies,  sources 
for  which  are  listed  in  the  appended  bibliography 
(page  94),  if  told  in  story  form  and  followed  by  selec- 
tions from  the  artist's  works,  will  make  an  impression 
and  arouse  an  interest  as  nothing  else  can  do.  Do  not, 
however,  make  the  mistake  of  beginning  with  the  man 
and  leading  down  to  his  childhood.  Begin  with  his 
early  years  and  lead  up  to  his  achievements.  The 
child  will  become  interested  in  the  man  only  through 
his  childhood,  because  children  are  near  his  own  in- 
terests, while  adults  are  not.  Many  inexperienced 
story-tellers  do  not  understand  this,  and  are  disap- 
pointed in  their  failure  to  hold  their  little  hearers. 
This  was  demonstrated  not  long  ago  in  a  university 
course  in  story-telling.  An  incident  in  the  childhood 


88  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

of  Mozart  was  to  be  given  in  story  form  to  introduce 
some  of  that  composer's  works  to  a  group  of  children. 
Eighty  per  cent  of  the  five  hundred  preparing  the 
paper  began  thus:  "When  the  great  Mozart  was  a 
little  boy.2'  That  introduction  meant  nothing  to  the 
children,  because  they  did  not  know  "the  great  Mo- 
zart," and  were  not  interested  in  strange  men.  But 
they  were  intensely  interested  in  hearing  about  a  child 
who  long,  long  ago  was  sailing  down  the  Danube  with 
his  father  and  sister  Marianne  and  was  very  much 
distressed  because  the  father  would  have  to  pay  duty 
on  the  harp  they  carried  and  therefore,  when  they 
reached  Vienna,  Marianne  could  not  have  a  new  dress 
that  she  sadly  needed.  Little  eyes  sparkled  and  little 
hands  clapped  when  the  children  heard  how,  as  they 
reached  the  customhouse  of  the  Austrian  capital,  young 
Wolfgang  asked  his  father  if  he  might  play  something 
on  the  harp,  and  his  rendition  so  delighted  and  amazed 
the  officials  that  the  duty  was  waived  and  Marianne 
was  shabbily  clad  no  longer. 

There  are  many  musical  stories  besides  those  of  lives 
of  the  composers  that  should  be  given  to  children : 
tales  of  the  violin  makers  of  Cremona,  the  minnesingers, 
the  troubadours,  the  meistersingers,  Pan  and  his 
pipes,  Apollo  and  the  lyre,  David  and  the  harp,  King 
Alfred  and  the  harp,  the  harp  at  Tara,  the  Crusaders 
bringing  some  stringed  instruments  into  Europe,  the 
development  of  the  orchestra,  the  evolution  of  the  harp 
from  the  bended  bow  of  the  early  tribesmen,  and  the 
making  of  the  piano.  Stories  of  some  of  the  operas, 
especially  those  based  on  the  legends  of  the  Grail  and 
the  Rhinegold,  are  delightful  tales  to  give  to  children. 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Music        89 

A  good  way  to  introduce  children  to  a  composer  is 
by  combining  the  story  of  his  life  with  selections  from 
his  work,  as  in  the  following  story  about  Schubert. 
This  method  may  be  applied  to  the  study  of  any  com- 
poser. Libraries  are  rich  in  materials,  and  the  talking- 
machine  companies  bring  the  music  within  the  reach 
of  all ;  so  there  is  no  reason  why  the  story-teller  should 
not  do  his  part  in  making  our  nation  a  music-loving 
land,  as  well  as  give  pleasure  to  the  children  under  his 
guidance. 

"Whoever  puts  a  beautiful  thought  or  melody  into 
the  world,"  writes  an  Indian  poet,  "gives  more  than 
a  diamond  of  Golconda."  Whoever  helps  a  child  to 
understand  and  enjoy  beautiful  thoughts  and  melodies, 
gives  in  almost  as  great  a  measure  as  their  creator. 
He  too  is  a  builder,  leaving  behind  him  something  fit 
to  stand,  and  labor  of  that  kind  does  not  go  unrequited. 

A  BOY  OF  OLD  VIENNA 

Little  Franz  could  hardly  wait  for  the  sun  to  rise.  He  had 
lain  awake  all  night  thinking  of  what  morning  would  bring, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  long,  dark  hours  would  never  end. 
But  now  it  was  dawn,  and  he  knew  that  very  soon  the  sun 
would  gild  the  hilltops,  and  then  the  thing  of  which  he  had 
dreamed  for  days  would  come  to  pass. 

"Are  you  up,  Franz?"  his  mother  called  from  below. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  cheerily,  "up  and  dressing." 

The  mother  smiled  at  him  as  he  ran  down  into  the  kitchen, 
for  she  knew  how  eagerly  he  had  looked  forward  to  this  day. 
Josef,  the  kindly  neighbor,  had  promised  to  take  him  that 
very  morning  to  a  warehouse  where  many  fine  pianos  were 
kept,  and  he  would  spend  hours  among  the  beautiful  instru- 


90  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

merits  there.  No  wonder  he  was  glad  1  The  one  his  father 
provided  for  him  was  cheap  and  harsh,  for  Heir  Schubert 
was  just  a  poor  schoolmaster  and  had  few  coins  to  spend 
for  anything  besides  food  and  clothing.  But  that  did  not 
keep  Franz  from  doing  wonders  with  his  music.  He  learned 
all  he  could  from  his  brothers,  and  worked  away  at  the  poor 
piano  because  he  could  not  help  it.  Now  that  he  was  soon 
to  touch  the  keyboard  of  a  really  splendid  instrument,  he 
felt  like  a  prince  in  a  fairy  tale. 

They  went  out  of  the  house  and  along  the  dingy  street  in 
which  the  Schuberts  lived.  Across  the  Danube  they  passed 
by  the  old  stone  bridge  that  led  to  the  Ringstrasse,  then  north- 
ward into  that  part  of  the  city  where  the  warehouses  stood. 
Groups  of  citizens  in  holiday  attire  hurried  by,  and  now  and 
then  some  great  lord  or  lady  in  a  fine  carriage  passed  them 
on  the  way  to  worship  at  St.  Stephen's.  But  Franz  thought 
only  of  reaching  the  warehouse,  and  he  walked  so  fast  that 
Josef,  who  was  short  and  fat,  began  to  grow  red  in  the  face  and 
pant,  and  he  was  quite  as  glad  as  the  boy  when  they  reached 
the  building. 

Franz  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  a  piano.  Sunday  comes 
just  once  a  week,  and  another  would  not  come  for  seven  long 
days.  He  sat  down  at  one  of  the  lovely  instruments,  playing 
and  singing  as  if  nothing  in  the  world  mattered  so  much  as 
music.  He  was  only  eleven  years  old,  and  boys  of  that  age 
usually  want  to  be  out  with  others,  engaged  in  the  sports 
and  games  boys  love.  But  not  so  with  Franz  Schubert.  He 
was  happiest  at  his  music.  He  played  and  played  and  was 
so  busy  that  he  did  not  see  a  stranger  come  into  the  ware- 
house or  hear  his  voice  in  earnest  conversation  with  Josef. 

"You  say  he  has  had  no  music  masters?"  the  man  asked 
wonderingly. 

Josef  shook  his  head.  "None  but  his  brothers,  Ignace 
and  Ferdinand,  and  once,  for  a  very  short  time,  his  father 
sent  him  to  a  singing  tutor.  But  he  said  he  could  teach  him 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Music        91 

nothing,  for  when  he  thought  to  give  him  something  new  he 
found  he  had  learned  it  already." 

"Surely  he  is  a  wonder  child,"  the  stranger  remarked. 
"Be  sure  to  tell  his  father  to  bring  him  tomorrow  and  we  will 
try  him." 

Then  he  passed  out,  but  Franz  did  not  see  him.  Nor  did 
he  know  a  word  that  had  been  spoken  until  on  the  way  home, 
when  Josef  told  him  that  the  emperor's  choirmaster  had 
passed  by  and  was  so  pleased  with  his  singing  and  playing 
that  he  wanted  him  in  the  royal  choir. 

So  little  Franz  Schubert  became  a  choir  boy,  and  the 
master  wondered  more  and  more  that  one  so  young  could 
know  so  much  of  music. 

Then  he  went  to  a  boys'  school.  His  clothes  were  not  very 
fine,  for  he  was  poor.  But  he  wore  the  best  he  had,  a  light 
gray  suit  that  was  far  from  handsome.  Some  of  the  richer 
boys  thought  it  funny  and  nicknamed  him  "the  miller." 
But  when  Franz  passed  the  severe  singing  examination  so 
well  that  he  was  given  one  of  the  gold-braided  honor  uni- 
forms, they  did  not  tease  him  again.  No  one  else  did  as  well 
in  the  orchestra  as  the  little  Schubert  lad.  No  one  else  sang 
as  understandingly  as  he,  and  his  master  and  fellow  students, 
like  the  royal  choirmaster,  called  him  a  wonder  child.  Every 
boy  in  the  school  liked  him,  and  Franz  liked  them  all  too, 
but  especially  a  young  man  named  Spaun.  And  Spaun's 
name  is  remembered  to  this  day  just  because  once  upon  a 
time  he  was  kind  to  little  Franz  Schubert.  He  was  almost 
twenty  when  Franz  was  but  eleven,  but  they  were  jolly  com- 
panions and  the  best  of  friends. 

One  day  Franz  said,  "If  I  had  some  paper  I  know  I  could 
write  a  song." 

But  paper  he  had  not,  because  his  father  could  not  afford 
to  buy  it.  Spaun  always  had  a  little  money  to  spend,  how- 
ever, so  Franz  got  the  paper  and  wrote  the  song,  and  after 
that  his  friend  supplied  him  with  writing  material.  He  en- 


92  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

joyed  doing  it  because  he  liked  the  lad,  but  he  did  not  realize 
that  it  would  mean  much  to  the  world.  It  did  mean  a  great 
deal,  however,  for  some  of  the  songs  Franz  wrote  during  his 
school  days  are  still  sung  as  among  the  sweetest  in  the  world, 
and  perhaps  but  for  Spaun's  paper  they  might  not  have 
been  written. 

Well,  Franz  grew  up  just  as  other  boys  grow,  and  still 
he  went  on  loving  music  and  working  at  it,  playing  and  writ- 
ing songs.  Almost  everything  he  read  or  saw  made  him  think 
of  a  melody,  and  every  melody  that  formed  in  his  brain  was 
beautiful. 

One  evening  he  went  into  a  restaurant  in  Vienna  for  his 
dinner.  He  had  a  small  copy  of  Shakespeare  in  his  pocket, 
and  as  he  waited  to  be  served  he  took  it  out  and  read.  His 
eye  fell  upon  the  lines : 

Hark,  hark !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings, 

And  Phoebus  'gins  arise, 

His  steeds  to  water  at  those  springs 

On  chalked  flowers  that  lies. 

They  made  him  think  of  a  song,  and  he  looked  about  for 
paper  upon  which  to  write  it.  He  asked  the  waiter  to  get  him 
a  piece,  but  the  waiter  could  find  nothing  but  a  bill  of  fare. 
Schubert  took  that  and  wrote  his  melody,  and  when  Shake- 
speare's words  were  sung  to  it,  the  song  sounded  like  this : 

[At  this  point  in  the  story  run  a  record  of  "Hark,  hark  the 
lark."] 

Another  time  he  was  passing  through  a  poor  quarter  of 
Vienna  and  heard  a  peasant  serenading  a  girl.  Schubert  did 
not  think  the  song  a  very  pretty  one,  and  he  went  home  and 
wrote  one  that  he  liked  better.  This  is  how  it  sounds : 

[Record  of  "The  Serenade."] 

When  Franz  Schubert  was  a  little  child,  he  heard  his  father 
tell  an  old  German  story.  It  was  called  "  The  Erl  King  "  and 
was  about  a  witchlike  creature  who  was  supposed  to  take 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Music        93 

children  from  their  parents.  Franz  always  remembered  it, 
and  after  he  grew  to  manhood  and  read  Goethe's  poem, 
"The  Erl  King,"  a  friend  told  him  how  the  master  came  to 
write  it.  One  wild  winter  night  the  poet  was  visiting  in  the 
home  of  a  physician  and  a  man  came  riding  through  the 
storm,  seeking  help  for  the  child  he  had  with  him.  The  little 
fellow  was  delirious  with  fever  and  kept  clinging  to  his  father, 
crying  and  begging  him  not  to  let  the  Erl  King  take  him  away. 
The  incident  affected  Goethe  so  deeply  that  he  wrote  the 
poem,  and  Schubert,  hearing  the  story,  was  so  touched  by  it 
that  he  composed  wonderful  music  to  go  with  the  master's 
words. 

[Record  of  "The  Erl  King."] 

Another  poem  of  Goethe's  that  he  read  told  of  a  wild  rose 
growing  on  a  heath.  A  boy  saw  the  rose  and  said,  "I  will 
pluck  you."  The  rose  said,  "No,  no.  If  you  do  I  will  prick 
you."  The  foolish  boy  laughed  and  picked  the  rose,  and  it 
kept  its  word.  This  is  the  song  Schubert  made  of  the  poem : 

[Record  of  "Hedge  Roses."] 

So  you  see  that  almost  everything  made  Franz  Schubert 
think  of  music.  He  wrote  many,  many  songs  and  much 
other  music,  and  although  it  is  almost  a  hundred  years  since 
he  died,  his  name  and  his  works  will  live  as  long  as  men  love 
melody.  The  greatest  singers  in  the  world  use  his  songs  over 
and  over  because  rich  and  poor  alike  love  them,  and  when- 
ever singers  want  to  be  very  sure  of  pleasing  they  sing  some 
of  the  songs  of  him  who  was  once  a  boy  in  old  Vienna,  Franz 
Schubert. 


94  Educating  by  Story-Telling 


BARBER  :   Wagner  Opera  Stories. 

BENDER  :  -Some  Great  Opera  Stories  (General  Operas). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:   Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories; 

Boyhood  Stories  of  Famous  Men. 
CHAPIN,  ANNA  ALICE:    The  Heart  of  Music;   Makers  of  Song;  Stories 

of  the  Wagner  Operas;   The  Story  of  the  Rhinegold. 
CROWEST,  FREDERICK  JAMES  :    The  Life  of  Verdi. 
DOLE,  NATHAN  HASKELL  :  A  Score  of  Famous  Composers. 
DUTTON  COMPANY  :   The  Master  Musician  Series. 
FRYBERGER,  AGNES  :  Listening  Lessons  in  Music. 
GUERBER,  HELENE  A. :  Stories  of  the  Wagner  Operas. 
HENSEL,  SEBASTIAN  :   The  History  of  the  Mendelssohn  Family. 
LISZT,  FRANZ  :  Life  of  Chopin. 

PICTURES  TO  USE  IN  TELLING  MUSICAL  STORIES 

BEYSCHLAG  :  Orpheus  and  Eurydice. 

BORCKMAN  :  Mozart  and  His  Sisters  before  Maria  Theresa ;  Beethoven 

and  the  Rusmnowsky  Quartette. 
CARLO  DOLCI  :  St.  Cecilia  at  the  Organ. 
DUNCAN  :  Story  of  Minstrelsy. 
GIULIO  ROMANO  :  Apollo  and  the  Muses. 
HAMMAN  :  Mozart  at  Vienna ;  Preludes  of  Bach ;  Haydn  Crossing  the 

English  Channel ;   Handel  and  George  I  of  England. 
HARPFER  :  Mozart  at  the  Organ. 
LEYDENDECKER  :  Beethoven  at  Bonn. 
MERLE  :  Beethoven  at  the  House  of  Mozart. 
ROSENTHAL  :  Morning  Prayers  in  the  Family  of  Bach. 
SCHLOESSER  :  Beethoven  in  His  Study. 
SCHNEIDER  :  Mozart  and  His  Sister. 
SHIELDS  :  Mozart  Singing  His  Requiem. 
Portraits  of  all  the  great  musicians.1 

1  Brown,  Perry,  or  Cosmos  Pictures,  or  they  may  be  obtained  from 
Victor  Talking  Machine  Company,  especially  the  living  artists. 


CHAPTER  TEN 

STORY-TELLING  TO  AWAKEN  AN  APPRECIATION  OF 

ART 


child  who  is  surrounded  by  good  pictures 
JL  from  his  earliest  years  grows  to  love  good 
pictures,  and  gaudily  colored,  cheap  ones  have  no 
charm  for  him.  His  taste  has  been  formed  for  the 
fine  and  true,  and  nothing  else  will  satisfy  him.  To 
behold  a  beautiful  painting  gives  him  pleasure,  while 
to  see  a  glaring  chromo  produces  an  unpleasant  sensa- 
tion. This  is  not  because  he  is  different  by  nature 
from  one  to  whom  masterpieces  have  no  meaning, 
but  because  he  has  learned  to  know  them. 

Here  again  we  have  one  of  the  striking  differences 
between  the  average  American  and  the  average  Euro- 
pean. The  Italian,  French,  Austrian,  or  German 
laborer  sees  masterpieces  from  infancy.  His  earliest 
recollection  of  religious  worship  is  associated  with 
them.  Every  continental  town  has  its  art  gallery  or 
picture  exhibit,  and  on  certain  days  there  is  no  admis- 
sion fee.  The  laborer  avails  himself  of  this  oppor- 
tunity. On  Sunday,  when  he  is  free  from  toil,  he 
makes  a  festival  of  the  occasion  and  takes  his  family 
to  some  park  or  place  of  amusement,  and  very  fre- 
quently the  jaunt  includes  a  trip  to  the  picture  gallery. 
Consequently,  even  the  children  of  those  lands  have  a 
knowledge  of  the  masterpieces  of  art  far  surpassing 
that  of  the  average  adult  American. 

In  most  respects  the  Italian  street  gamin  does  not 
differ  from  the  guttersnipe  of  our  own  land,  but  in  one 

95 


96  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

he  is  vastly  his  superior.  He  knows  the  free  days  at 
the  galleries  as  well  as  he  knows  the  alleys  of  his  native 
town,  and  is  a  liberal  patron  of  such  places  on  those 
occasions.  I  once  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  little 
chap  in  Rome  who  was  an  excellent  guide.  He  piloted 
me  among  the  treasures  of  the  Vatican  with  the  ease 
and  security  that  bespeaks  thorough  knowledge,  for 
he  had  been  there  so  often  that  he  knew  in  just  which 
rooms  or  alcoves  to  find  his  favorites.  He  knew 
much  of  the  artists,  too,  of  their  lives  and  times,  their 
discouragements  and  successes.  Yet  this  Roman  street 
boy  was  no  exception  to  his  class.  Along  the  Piazza 
di  Spagna,  in  fact,  on  any  of  the  highways,  are  dozens 
like  him,  rich  in  knowledge  of  the  statues  and  fountains 
that  glorify  the  streets  and  parks  of  the  Holy  City. 
The  names  of  Brunelleschi,  Michelangelo,  Fra  Angelico, 
Giotto,  and  those  other  men  who  built  or  carved  or 
painted  with  marvelous  power,  are  fraught  with  mean- 
ing to  them,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  it  should  be 
so.  Children  in  Italy  have  grown  up  among  beautiful 
things.  For  centuries  beauty  has  been  almost  a  religion 
to  this  joy-loving,  sun-loving  race,  and  the  country 
of  the  Apennines,  as  Francis  Hopkinson  Smith  says,  is 
the  one  place  in  the  world  where  a  song  or  a  sunset  is 
worth  more  than  a  soldo.  Consequently,  the  Italians 
are  a  nation  of  art  lovers.  Each  individual  regards  the 
masterpieces  as  his  property,  and  the  reason  the 
Italian  people  hate  the  memory  of  Napoleon  is  not 
only  that  he  conquered  parts  of  their  land,  but  that 
he  robbed  Italy  of  some  of  her  art  treasures.  These 
were  things  they  and  their  fathers  had  seen  and  loved, 
and  they  could  not  forgive  the  vandal  who  carried 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Art          97 

them  away,  even  after  the  wound  left  by  the  victor 
had  ceased  to  rankle. 

Here  in  America  we  have  not  had  the  opportunity 
of  the  average  European,  but  already  we  have  made 
a  beginning,  and  we  now  possess  a  number  of  art 
galleries  that  deserve  the  name.  At  the  present 
time  these  are  found  only  in  the  large  cities,  but  they 
are  helping  to  form  national  standards.  Meanwhile 
every  worker  with  children  ought  to  try  to  lead  those 
intrusted  to  his  care  to  a  knowledge  and  appreciation 
of  great  pictures. 

It  is  not  enough  to  place  reproductions  of  master- 
pieces in  schools  and  homes  and  say  nothing  about 
them.  If  children  are  to  have  an  appreciation  of 
them,  they  must  be  led  to  see  their  beauty,  to  under- 
stand what  they  mean,  to  have  some  idea  of  the  in- 
finite patience  and  labor  that  made  their  creation 
possible.  The  child  of  an  artistic  bent  will  observe 
and  study  them  without  aid  or  guidance  and  uncon- 
sciously grow  into  loving  them,  because  beauty  in  any 
form  attracts  him  as  a  magnet  draws  a  bar  of  steel. 
But  teachers  and  parents  do  not  work  solely  with  bud- 
ding genius,  and  in  the  great  scheme  of  human  ad- 
vancement it  may  mean  as  much  for  many  average 
children  to  appreciate  and  love  art,  as  for  one  who  is 
gifted  to  reach  immortal  heights  of  achievement.  The 
average  child  must  be  led  and  directed.  His  interest 
must  be  aroused  before  we  can  hope  to  mold  his  taste 
as  we  would  have  it  molded.  He  must  be  taught  to 
see  that  a  Gainsborough  is  more  beautiful  than  an 
advertising  chromo,  that  a  face  by  Raphael  is  the 
expression  of  an  inspiration  that  is  almost  divine. 


98  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Only  through  an  association  that  gives  pleasure  will 
he  come  to  see  and  appreciate,  and  here  again  story- 
telling can  work  wonders,  because  through  it  we  can 
intensify  a  child's  delight  in  a  picture. 

In  the  field  of  art  the  biographical  tale  is  of  im- 
measurable value,  for  the  story  of  an  artist's  life, 
illustrated  by  reproductions  of  his  works,  can  be  made 
the  pathway  to  appreciation. 

In  establishing  standards  of  art  appreciation,  as 
well  as  those  of  music,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the 
story  interests  of  childhood,  because  many  a  picture 
that  is  a  great  artistic  achievement  is  not  suitable 
to  present  to  little  children.  The  "Venus  and  Cupid" 
of  Velasquez  is  a  glorious  masterpiece,  but  we  cannot 
expect  little  folk  to  admire  it  any  more  than  we  can 
expect  those  in  the  rhythmic  period  to  listen  to  a  King 
Arthur  story  and  ask  to  hear  it  again.  As  the  little 
child  does  not  know  Venus  and  Cupid,  a  portrayal 
of  them  means  nothing  to  him.  But  he  does  know 
horses  and  dogs  and  cats.  He  knows  other  children 
and  babies  and  mothers,  and  therefore  he  enjoys 
pictures  of  animal  and  child  life  and  will  be  interested 
in  hearing  about  their  portrayers. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  is  an  excellent  artist  to  begin 
with,  because  his  best  work  is  built  around  themes 
dear  to  the  heart  of  childhood.  His  "Age  of 
Innocence,"  "Infant  Samuel,"  "Robinetta,"  "Heads 
of  Angels,"  "Simplicity,"  and  "The  Strawberry  Girl" 
are  ideal  works  to  present  to  the  small  child,  and  this 
painter's  early  years  make  a  charming  story. 

Sir  Edwin  Landseer  is  another  artist  with  whom  we 
can  acquaint  little  children,  through  the  following 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Art  99 

works:  "Uncle  Tom  and  His  Wife  for  Sale,"  "Low 
Life  and  High  Life,"  "Dignity  and  Impudence,"  "A 
Distinguished  Member  of  the  Humane  Society,"  "The 
Sick  Monkey,"  "King  Charles  Spaniels,"  and  many 
other  paintings,  all  of  which  will  be  loved  by  children 
because  they  love  the  subjects. 

Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  paintings  should  be  used  in 
this  period.  Children  are  especially  fond  of  "The 
Horse  Fair,"  "Coming  from  the  Fair,"  "Brittany 
Sheep,"  "Highland  Cattle,"  and  "A  Norman  Sire." 
In  fact,  everything  this  painter  created,  like  all  the 
work  of  Landseer,  is  fraught  with  interest  to  the 
child,  because  she  was  solely  a  portrayer  of  animal 
life. 

An  artist  of  whom  little  folk  have  been  taught  almost 
nothing  is  Gainsborough.  Usually  we  think  of  him 
only  as  a  portrait  painter,  because  in  America  his 
likenesses  of  women  are  better  known  than  his  other 
pictures.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to  associate  him  only 
with  "the  dashing,  smashing  hats  worn  by  the  Duchess 
of  Devonshire."  Until  recently  only  Americans  who 
had  traveled  in  England  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
or  knowing  the  greater  part  of  this  artist's  other  work, 
because  the  British  copyright  law  protected  much  of 
it  in  such  a  way  that  cheap  prints  could  not  be  made. 
Now,  however,  it  is  possible  to  get  good  reproductions 
of  these  long-protected  Gainsboroughs  at  a  very 
reasonable  price.  Most  valuable  of  the  works  of  this 
artist  to  use  with  little  children  are  the  following: 
"The  Market  Cart,"  "The  Watering  Place,"  "Two 
Dogs,"  "Rustic  Children,"  and  "Study  of  an  Old 
Horse." 


100  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Murillo  is  an  ideal  painter  to  introduce  to  the  little 
child,  because  his  childhood  story  is  as  fascinating 
as  his  creations  are  glorious.  Children  never  tire  of 
hearing  about  this  joyous  little  Spanish  boy,  and  of 
the  time  when  he  transformed  the  family  picture, 
turning  the  halo  of  the  Christ-child  into  a  gorgeous 
sombrero,  and  making  a  dog  of  the  sheep.  As  they 
laugh  or  sympathize  with  the  wonder  child  of  Seville 
and  feel  something  of  the  charm  of  life  in  that  old  city, 
its  street  children,  immortalized  on  canvas  by  its  most 
illustrious  son,  become  comrades  because  little  Barto- 
lome  sometimes  played  with  them  and  big  Bartolome 
painted  them.  There  is  a  long  list  of  this  master's  works 
from  which  to  choose,  but  the  following  are  particularly 
enjoyed:  "Mother  and  Child,"  "The  Adoration  of 
the  Shepherds,"  "St.  John  and  the  Lamb,"  "The 
Melon  Eaters,"  "The  Dice  Players,"  "Beggar  Boys," 
"The  Good  Shepherd,"  "The  Marriage  of  St.  Cather- 
ine," and  "The  Immaculate  Conception."  No  at- 
tempt should  be  made  to  interpret  the  two  last-named 
pictures.  Familiarize  little  people  with  them  and 
lead  them  to  see  their  beauty,  but  waive  all  idea  of 
religious  symbolism  until  years  bring  maturity  of 
thought  and  the  child  makes  his  own  interpretation. 

All  Madonna  pictures  are  interesting  to  little  chil- 
dren, so  by  all  means  acquaint  them  with  Raphael, 
the  king.  Let  them  drink  in  the  beauty  of  "The 
Sistine  Madonna,"  "The  Madonna  of  the  Chair," 
*'The  Madonna  of  the  Goldfinch,"  and  as  many  others 
as  can  be  obtained.  The  story  of  Raphael  belongs 
more  properly  in  the  intermediate  period  than  in  the 
very  early  one,  because  so  little  is  known  of  this  painter's 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Art         101 

life  before  he  began  his  career.  Just  tell  the  chil- 
dren of  the  little  boy  who  lived  in  far-away  Urbino 
long,  long  ago.  His  mother  died  when  he  was  a  wee 
little  fellow,  and  he  lived  alone  with  his  father,  who 
was  very  kind  to  him.  Instead  of  playing  much, 
as  the  other  children  did,  he  loved  to  sit  and  listen 
to  stories  about  saints  and  good  people  who  lived 
before  his  tune.  He  loved  to  draw  pictures,  too, 
and  when  he  grew  to  be  a  man  he  became  a  wonder- 
ful painter. 

Closely  following  Raphael  may  come  Correggio, 
through  his  "Holy  Night,"  "Repose  in  Egypt," and 
"Cherubs." 

Van  Dyck,  too,  may  be  made  familiar  to  little 
children.  From  his  works  choose  "  Children  of  Charles 
I"  and  several  details  from  this  picture  —  "Baby 
Stuart,"  "Charles  II,"  and  "Henrietta."  But  pre- 
sent first  the  complete  picture,  so  that  when  "  Baby 
Stuart"  is  seen  the  children  will  know  that  it  is  only 
part  of  a  painting.  Many  a  grown  person  does  not 
realize  that  it  is  a  detail  from  another  work,  and  this 
fact  should  be  understood  by  every  child  who  sees  the 
royal  baby.  Other  works  by  this  artist  suitable  to 
introduce  to  tiny  people  are  "The  Repose  in  Egypt," 
"Madonna  and  Child,"  and  "The  Dona  tors." 

There  are  many  painters  whose  pictures  will  be  en- 
joyed by  children  of  from  five  to  eight,  and  the  teacher 
or  parent  who  knows  art  and  art  literature  can  choose 
for  himself,  keeping  always  in  mind  the  story  interests. 
To  those  who  have  little  or  no  knowledge  of  art,  yet 
who  want  to  lead  children  along  this  path,  the  follow- 
ing list  will  be  helpful : 


102  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ARTISTS  AND   PAINTINGS   THAT   CAN  BE  PRESENTED  TO 
YOUNG  CHILDREN  THROUGH  THE  STORY-TELLING  METHOD 

ADAM  :   Kittens ;  Wide  Awake ;  The  Hungry  Quartette ;   In  the  Bou- 
doir. 

BOTTICELLI  :   Adoration  of  the  Magi ;   The  Holy  Family. 
BOUGUEREAU  :  Virgin  and  Angels ;  Virgin,  Infant  Jesus,  and  St.  John ; 

Going  Home  from  School ;  The  Flight  into  Egypt. 
DELAROCHE  :   The  Finding  of  Moses ;   Children  of  Edward  IV. 
GREUZE  :  The  Broken  Pitcher ;   Innocence :   Head  of  Girl  with  Apple. 
HERRING  :    Pharaoh's  Horses ;    Three  Members  of  the  Temperance 

Society ;   The  Village  Blacksmith ;   Farmyard. 
VIGEE  LEBRUN  :    Marie  Antoinette  and  Children ;    Girl  with   Muff ; 

Mother  and  Daughter. 
MILLET:    Feeding  the  Hens;  Feeding  Her  Birds;  The  First   Step; 

Feeding  the  Nestlings. 
LUCA  DELLA  RoBBiA :   Singing  Boys ;  Trumpeters  and  Dancing  Boys ; 

Dancing  Boys  with  Cymbals ;  Children  Dancing  to  Fife  and  Tam- 

bor;    Madonna,  Child,  and  Saints. 
RUBENS:    Portrait  of  his  Wife  and   Children;    The  Holy  Family; 

Infant  Christ,  St.  John,  and  Angels;   The  Virgin  under  an  Apple 

Tree ;  The  Adoration  of  the  Magi. 

Children  of  the  intermediate  period  enjoy  the  works 
of  the  great  landscape  painters,  Claude  Lorrain, 
Corot,  Breton,  and  others  who  portrayed  the  woods 
and  fields,  especially  when  they  know  something  of 
the  childhood  of  these  men.  In  this  period,  too,  they 
should  become  better  acquainted  with  some  of  the 
artists  they  have  already  met.  Add  to  the  interest 
previously  created  in  Raphael  by  taking  up  such  works 
as  "Madonna  of  the  Fish,"  "Madonna  of  the  Well," 
and  "Madonna  of  the  Diadem."  In  telling  the  story 
of  his  life  use  Ouida's  beautiful  tale,  "The  Child  of 
Urbino,"  which  is  so  exquisitely  told  that  there  is 
nothing  lovelier  in  literature.  Show  the  children  his 
portrait  of  himself,  his  "St.  Catherine,"  "St.  Cecilia," 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Art         103 

"St.  John  in  the  Desert,"  "Peter  and  John  at  the 
Beautiful  Gate,"  and  "The  Miraculous  Draught  of 
Fishes." 

Add  to  the  interest  already  created  in  Rubens  by 
taking  up  his  "Portrait  of  Himself,"  "The  Flight  of 
Lot,"  and  the  paintings  illustrating  the  life  of  Maria 
de'  Medici. 

Pictures  representing  the  Crucifixion,  the  Descent 
from  the  Cross,  and  the  Entombment,  no  matter  how 
glorious  they  may  be  as  works  of  art,  should  not  be 
presented  to  children.  They  are  too  highly  religious 
for  children's  understanding,  and  the  tragedy  por- 
trayed in  them  should  not  enter  into  childhood.  The 
Madonnas  and  Holy  Families  may  be  used  freely, 
because  they  portray  dear  and  familiar  characters 
and  are  saturated  with  an  atmosphere  of  happiness 
that  gladdens  the  child. 

The  following  list  will  aid  those  who  are  not  con- 
noisseurs : 

ARTISTS  AND  PAINTINGS  FOR  CHILDREN  OF  THE 
INTERMEDIATE  PERIOD 

JULES  BRETON  :  Song  of  the  Lark ;  The  Gleaners ;  The  Reapers ;  The 
Weeders ;  The  Recall  of  the  Gleaners ;  Blessing  the  Wheat ;  The 
Vintagers ;  The  End  of  Labor. 

JACQUES  :  The  Sheepfold ;  Pasturage  hi  the  Forest ;  Shepherd  and 
Sheep. 

MILLET:  The  Sower;  The  Gleaners;  The  Angelus;  The  Grafter; 
Sheep  Shearing;  Potato  Planting;  Bundling  Wheat;  Return- 
ing to  the  Farm;  Shepherdess  Knitting;  Woman  Churning; 
Labor. 

There  is  a  twofold  reason  for  introducing  children 
to  such  painters  as  Millet,  Breton,  and  Jacques. 


104  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Besides  giving  them  a  knowledge  of  the  works  of  the 
artists  in  question  and  adding  to  their  appreciation 
of  the  beautiful,  it  will  dignify  labor  in  their  eyes  to 
learn  that  it  inspired  these  great  creators.  If  leaders 
of  the  "back  to  the  land"  movement  would  make 
free  use  of  the  art  of  the  world  among  children,  if 
during  the  years  when  impressions  made  are  deep  and 
lasting  they  would  tell  stories  and  show  pictures  that 
have  been  inspired  by  toilers  in  the  fields,  a  sentiment 
would  be  created  that  would  tell  in  results,  because 
of  boys  and  girls  having  learned  to  respect  those  who 
till  the  soil  and  work  with  their  hands. 

ARTISTS  AND  PAINTINGS  THAT  LEAD  TO  APPRECIATION  OF 
THE  BEAUTIFUL  AND  TO  RESPECT  FOR  LABOR 

COROT  :   Dance  of  the  Children ;    Dance  of  Nymphs ;   Landscape  with 

Willows ;   Paysage ;   Pond  of  Ville  d'Avray ;   The  Lake. 
REMBRANDT  :  Portrait  of  Himself ;   Portrait  of  His  Mother ;  The  Mill ; 

The  Burgomasters. 
TROYON:    Return  to  the  Farm;    Going  to  Work;    Landscape  with 

Sheep. 
VAN  DYCK  (Add  to  interest  already  aroused) :   Henrietta  Maria,  Wife 

of  Charles  I ;    William  of  Orange  and  Mary  Stuart ;    Equestrian 

Portrait  of  Charles  I ;  Portrait  of  Charles  I  with  Groom  and  Horse. 
VELAZQUEZ:    Portrait  of  Himself;    The  Tapestry  Weavers;    Prince 

Balthazar;     The    Lancers;     Equestrian    Portrait   of   Philip    IV; 

Infanta  Maria  Theresa. 

When  children  reach  the  period  during  which  they 
crave  the  heroic,  when  they  are  eager  for  the  great 
epic  stories,  give  them  the  great  paintings  that  por- 
tray epic  and  mythological  subjects.  The  following 
list  contains  names  of  artists  and  works  that  children 
in  this  stage  will  enjoy  : 


Story-Telling  and  Appreciation  of  Art         105 

ARTISTS  AND  PAINTINGS  FOR  THE  HEROIC  AND  EPIC  PERIODS 

ALMA-TADEMA  :   Sappho ;   Reading  from  Homer. 

BuRNE-JoNES :  The  Golden  Stair ;  The  First  Day  of  Creation ;  Second 
Day  of  Creation ;  Third  Day  of  Creation ;  Fourth  Day  of  Creation ; 
Fifth  Day  of  Creation ;  Sixth  Day  of  Creation ;  Hope ;  Circe ;  En- 
chantment of  Merlin ;  King  Cophetua  and  the  Beggar  Maid ;  The 
Furies. 

LEIGHTON  :  Helen  of  Troy ;  Captive  Andromache ;  Greek  Girls  Play- 
ing Ball. 

MICHELANGELO  :  David ;  Moses ;  Saul ;  The  Three  Fates ;  Jeremiah ; 
Ezekiel ;  Zachariah ;  Isaiah ;  Daniel ;  Jonas ;  The  Delphic 
Sibyl ;  The  Cumaean  Sibyl ;  The  Libyan  Sibyl. 

RAPHAEL  :   St.  George  and  the  Dragon. 

GUIDO  RENT  :  Jesus  and  John ;  St.  Michael  and  the  Dragon ;  Aurora ; 
Beatrice  Cenci ;  St.  Sebastian ;  The  Annunciation ;  L'Adorata. 

ROSSETTI  :  The  Sea  Spell ;  The  Blessed  Damozel ;  Ancilla  Domini. 

ANDREA  DEL  SARTO  :  John  the  Baptist ;  Virgin  in  Glory ;  St.  Agnes ; 
Charity. 

TINTORETTO:  The  Forge  of  Vulcan;  Marriage  at  Cana;  Paradise; 
Paolo  Veronese;  Feast  at  House  of  Simon;  Feast  at  House  of 
Levi ;  Europa  and  Jupiter. 

TITIAN  :  John  the  Baptist ;  Tribute  Money ;  Titian's  Daughter  La- 
vinia ;  Flora ;  Head  of  Venus. 

TURNER  (Mythological) :  Apollo  and  the  Python ;  Jason  in  Search  of 
the  Golden  Fleece ;  The  Goddess  of  Discord ;  Dido  Building 
Carthage ;  Ulysses  Deriding  Polyphemus.  (Historical) :  Prince 
of  Orange;  The  Death  of  Nelson;  Boat's  Crew  Recovering  an 
Anchor ;  Hannibal  and  Army  Crossing  the  Alps ;  The  Field  of 
Waterloo;  Agrippina  Landing  with  the  Ashes  of  Germanicus; 
The  Fighting  Teme'raire. 

WATTS  :   Sir  Galahad ;   Orpheus  and  Eurydioe ;   Endymion. 

GENERAL  BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  ART  STORY  MATERIAL 

BACON,  MARY  S.  H. :    Pictures  That  Every  Child  Should  Know. 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  Boyhood  Stories  of  Famous  Men. 
COLLMANN,  SOPHIE  MARIE  :  Art  Talks  with  Young  Folks. 
DE  LA  RAMEE,  LOUISE:   Child  of  Urbino  ("Bimbi"  Stories). 
ENNIS,  LUNA  MAY  :   Music  in  Art. 
HARTMANN,  SADAKICHI  :  Japanese  Art. 


106  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

HORNE,  OLIVE  B.,  and  SCOBEY,  KATHRINE  L. :  Stories  of  Great  Artists. 

HOURTICQ,  Louis :  Art  in  France. 

HURLL,  ESTELLE  M. :    The  Madonna  in  Art. 

MENEFEE,  MAUD  :  Child  Stories  from  the  Masters. 

SWEETSER,  M.  F. :  Artist  Biographies:  Raphael  and  Leonardo,  Angela 
and  Titian,  Claude  Lorrain  and  Reynolds,  Turner  and  Landseer, 
D'urer  and  Rembrandt,  Van  Dyck  and  Angelica,  Murillo  and  Allsion. 

VASARI,  GIORGIO  :  Lives  of  the  Italian  Painters,  Sculptors,  and  Archi- 
tects. 

WATERS,  CLARA  ERSKINE:   Saints  in  Art;   Stories  of  Art  and  Artists. 


SOURCES  FOR  MODERATE-PRICED  REPRODUCTIONS  OF 
MASTERPIECES 

The  Brown  Pictures,  Milton  Bradley  Company,  Springfield,  Mass. ; 
Emery  School  Art  Company,  Boston,  Mass. ;  Maison  Braun  et  Cie., 
New  York,  N.Y. ;  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company,  New  York,  N.Y. 
(has  American  rights  to  many  pictures) ;  The  Perry  Pictures,  Maiden, 
Mass. ;  The  Prang  Company,  New  York,  N.Y. ;  The  University 
Prints,  Boston,  Mass. 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

DRAMATIZATION 

CONTEMPORANEOUS  with  what  may  be  termed 
\^>  a  renaissance  in  story-telling  is  a  strong  senti- 
ment in  favor  of  dramatization.  Child  leaders  have 
observed  that  children  dramatize  spontaneously,  and 
that  after  they  have  heard  a  tale  they  often  play  it 
without  suggestion  from  an  older  person.  They  im- 
personate the  characters,  crudely  perhaps,  but  they 
represent  the  action  and  portray  the  story  as  they 
understand  it. 

This  they  do  because  the  dramatic  instinct  is  a  uni- 
versal instinct.  We  are  all  born  imitators,  and  we  like 
to  experience  the  feelings  and  experiences  of  others. 
That  is  why  the  little  girl  impersonates  her  mother 
and  takes  delight  in  dressing  in  grown-up  attire  and 
playing  lady.  It  is  what  actuates  the  boy  to  play 
Indian  or  soldier  or  fireman.  He  wants  to  live  through 
the  experiences  of  Indians  and  soldiers  and  firemen ;  so 
he  goes  into  the  world  of  make-believe  and  acts  the 
part.  During  that  time  he  is  a  larger  and  a  different 
personality.  He  is  not  a  h'ttle  boy  who  must  go  to 
bed  before  he  wants  to,  and  must  stay  inside  the  yard 
when  he  longs  to  be  out  on  the  highway ;  he  is  a  grown 
man  in  a  uniform  dashing  along  on  an  engine ;  he  is 
a  mighty  chief  in  feathers  and  war  paint,  leading  his 
tribe  against  the  enemy  or  speaking  words  of  wisdom 
around  the  council  fire. 

There  was  a  time  when  this  sort  of  play  was  believed 
to  be  of  no  value  beyond  that  of  a  romp  that  helped 
to  stretch  the  muscles,  but  today  there  is  a  very  dif- 

107 


108  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ferent  attitude  toward  it.  Close  observation  of  children 
and  a  more  general  knowledge  of  psychology  have 
brought  educators  to  realize  that  imitative  play  is  a  big 
factor  in  mental  development.  As  the  boy  imper- 
sonates a  fireman  or  Indian  he  must  choose  move- 
ments in  keeping  with  the  part  and  reject  those  not  in 
keeping  with  it.  He  must  select  and  evaluate,  and  in 
doing  this  he  is  acquiring  a  power  of  discrimination  that 
will  be  of  great  value  to  him  later. 

The  childhood  of  many  famous  men  of  the  past  was 
distinguished  by  an  unusual  amount  of  imitative  play, 
a  free  expression  of  the  dramatic  instinct.  Goethe,  in 
his  memories,  speaks  lovingly  of  his  early  years  thus : 

From  my  father  I  have  my  stature, 

My  earnest  aim  in  living ; 
From  little  mother,  my  joyous  nature, 

My  love  of  story  weaving. 

Continuing,  he  tells  of  the  tales  he  heard,  and  what 
they  meant  to  him  as  he  played  them : 

Sometimes  I  was  a  prince  and  sometimes  a  peasant.  Now 
I  was  rewarded  for  being  a  bountiful  and  considerate  king, 
then  punished  according  to  the  deserts  of  a  wicked  and 
revengeful  giant ;  and  always  as  I  played  these  parts  I  was 
learning  the  unchangeable  laws  of  life. 

What  Goethe  learned  through  acting  tales  his  mother 
told  him,  the  child  of  today  is  learning  as  he  drama- 
tizes stories,  although  not  always  in  as  great  a  measure 
as  was  learned  by  the  author  of  Faust  and  Werther. 
But  he  is  learning  according  to  his  ability  and  within 
his  limitations.  When  he  has  played  the  part,  the 


Dramatization  109 

laws  involved  in  it  become  fixed  principles  with  him, 
and  a  big  step  is  taken  in  the  direction  of  his  moral 
training.  Because  of  a  growing  recognition  of  this 
truth  the  present  strong  interest  in  dramatization  in 
schools  is  becoming  general  throughout  the  country. 
Teachers  are  beginning  to  realize  that  they  can  give 
no  more  eloquent  sermon  on  truthtelling  than  to  tell 
the  story  of  "  The  Boy  Who  Cried  Wolf,"  and  then 
let  the  children  dramatize  it.  There  is  no  more  ef- 
fective means  of  giving  a  lesson  in  contentment  than 
presenting  the  tale  of  the  pig  who  thought  his  life  hard 
and  leading  the  boys  and  girls  to  play  it. 

Therefore  it  follows  that  dramatization  should  be 
encouraged,  and  to  be  most  far-reaching  in  its  results, 
it  should  be  done  by  means  of  story-telling,  because  by 
proceeding  from  the  story  to  the  action  the  child  creates 
the  play  and  makes  it  his  own. 

There  are  many  books  of  plays  for  children,  carefully 
written  and  adapted  to  their  interests  in  word,  style, 
and  theme.  But  such  plays  do  not  mean  as  much  to  the 
child  as  those  he  makes  for  himself.  They  are  not 
as  much  his  own,  and  consequently  they  contribute 
less  toward  his  growth  and  development. 

The  natural  way  is  for  the  child  to  hear  the  story  and 
then  act  it.  Therefore  every  story-teller  should  have 
in  his  possession  a  number  of  tales  with  dramatic  possi- 
bilities. He  should  tell  one  of  these  vividly  and  dra- 
matically, using  much  dialogue,  and  then,  while  it  is 
still  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  children,  encourage 
them  to  play  it.  It  is  well  to  use  the  published  plays 
also,  because  there  are  many  excellent  ones,  but  the 
narrator  should  read  them  over,  get  the  plot,  and  tell 


110  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  story,  before  putting  them  into  the  hands  of  the 
children. 

Shall  dialogue  be  dictated  by  the  story-teller  and  the 
children  drilled  in  their  parts?  No.  Conversation 
used  in  telling  the  tale  will  suggest  to  the  children 
what  to  say,  and  they  will  make  up  their  own  parts. 
They  must  be  led  and  directed,  but  help  from  the 
teacher  or  leader  should  be  given  in  such  a  way  that  the 
children  feel  they  are  making  the  play  themselves. 
Help  them  by  questions  that  will  lead  them  to  think 
and  act  instead  of  telling  them  what  to  do  and  say. 

Suppose  "  The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin"  is  to  be  dram- 
atized. After  the  story  has  been  told,  say  to  the 
children,  "Do  you  want  to  play  it?"  Of  course 
they  will  want  to.  Then,  by  questioning,  lead  them 
to  constructive  effort. 

How  many  people  shall  we  need  ?  Immediately  the 
answers  will  come,  and  as  the  different  characters  are 
named  make  a  list,  thus  getting  the  cast.  Who  can 
be  the  mayor,  members  of  the  council,  the  piper,  rats, 
mothers  and  fathers,  lame  boy,  etc.  ? 

There  will  be  two  divisions,  those  who  are  forward, 
eager  to  take  a  prominent  part,  and  the  shy,  retir- 
ing ones  who  will  not  offer.  This  latter  group  must 
not  be  ignored,  and  to  draw  its  members  into  the  work 
requires  much  tact.  Sometimes  when  it  is  impossible 
to  get  a  child  to  take  a  speaking  part,  he  can  be  en- 
couraged to  be  one  of  a  group  of  "  supers,"  as  they  are 
called  on  the  professional  stage,  because  although  he 
lacks  the  confidence  necessary  to  make  him  lift  his 
voice,  his  diffidence  vanishes  in  doing  pantomime  with 
a  number  of  other  children.  He  will  be  a  rat  or  a 


Dramatization  111 

citizen  when  he  cannot  be  coaxed  or  driven  into  being 
the  piper,  and  after  many  pantomime  performances 
he  gains  the  confidence  in  himself  that  enables  him  to 
take  a  speaking  part. 

One  of  the  difficulties  incident  to  dramatization  in  the 
schoolroom  is  that  the  same  children  always  clamor  to 
take  the  star  parts,  and  sometimes  sulk  if  not  per- 
mitted to  do  so,  or  sneer  at  the  efforts  of  others.  This 
situation  must  be  met  as  any  other  problem  in  discipline 
is  met,  by  skill  on  the  part  of  the  teacher  and  by  incul- 
cating a  sense  of  fairness  and  courtesy  that  holds  selfish- 
ness in  check.  Lead  the  child  to  see  that  what  gives 
him  pleasure  gives  some  one  else  pleasure  also,  and 
that  it  is  the  right  of  each  member  of  the  class  to  expe- 
rience that  pleasure.  Once  the  boy  or  girl  realizes  that 
well-bred  people  are  considerate  and  do  not  deride  the 
efforts  of  others,  no  matter  how  imperfect  their  achieve- 
ment may  be,  the  dramatization  period  loses  its  greatest 
bugbear  and  shy  children  do  not  hesitate  to  take  part 
because  of  fear  that  they  will  be  laughed  at.  This 
result  cannot  be  brought  about  instantly,  but  persist- 
ence and  tact  will  finally  accomplish  it. 

Do  not  be  discouraged  because  it  seems  that  some  of 
the  shy  or  less  capable  children  will  never  take  a  speak- 
ing part.  Sometimes  even  after  they  perform  in  pan- 
tomime they  still  hang  back  and  will  speak  only  in 
chorus.  But  this  last  is  at  least  a  step  in  the  desired 
direction.  Keep  working  them  in  groups,  and  grad- 
ually from  group  speaking  they  will  advance  to  indi- 
vidual speaking.  Sometimes  this  process  is  slow  and 
discouraging,  but  the  teacher  should  remember  that 
mental  development  is  never  a  mushroom  growth, 


Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  that  great  achievement  is  not  wrought  in  a  day. 
The  marble  block  yields  so  slowly  to  the  shaping  of  the 
sculptor's  chisel  that  sometimes  it  seems  it  never  will 
take  the  form  he  visions  for  it,  but  ceaseless  effort 
always  brings  results.  So  it  is  with  the  teacher  in 
molding  human  material.  Results  are  sure  to  come  if 
persistence  and  patience  are  unflagging  and  faith  is 
deep  and  strong.  It  is  worth  much  for  a  shy,  self- 
conscious  child  to  grow  to  the  point  where  he  can  lose 
himself  in  the  role  of  a  play,  and  no  matter  how  crudely 
he  does  it,  he  should  be  encouraged  and  given  frequent 
opportunities  to  express  himself,  because  as  a  means  of 
self-development  his  crude  performance  is  of  as  much 
value  as  the  artistic  one  of  the  talented  child,  although 
it  may  be  less  enjoyable  to  spectators. 

With  little  children  especially,  it  is  desirable  to  use 
some  play  whose  cast  will  include  every  member  of  the 
class.  It  gives  the  eager  child  a  chance  to  be  "in  it," 
as  children  say,  and  makes  it  easier  to  draw  the  dif- 
fident child  to  participate,  because  he  wants  to  do  what 
all  the  others  are  doing.  "The  Pied  Piper"  is  ideal 
for  this,  because  of  the  flexibility  of  groups.  There  can 
be  enough  rats,  parents,  children,  or  council  members 
to  include  twenty  or  forty  children,  and  the  larger  the 
groups  the  more  intense  the  interest. 

After  the  cast  is  decided  upon,  plan  the  scenes,  again 
by  questioning  the  children.  What  is  the  first  thing  to 
be  done  and  where  is  it  done  ?  Thus,  by  question  and 
suggestion,  work  up  the  lines.  In  other  words,  have 
the  children  create  the  parts  themselves  and  they  will 
play  them  spontaneously.  The  production  may  not  be 
highly  artistic,  but  it  will  have  greater  educational 


Dramatization  113 

value  than  one  worked  out  by  an  adult  and  merely 
acted  by  the  children.  After  it  has  been  created  in  this 
way  it  may  be  put  into  finished  permanent  form. 
Little  children  may  practice  it  until  they  memorize 
the  lines,  while  those  in  the  grammar  grades  may 
write  parts,  thus  making  a  play  that  can  be  used  many 
times.  This  sort  of  work  is  very  valuable,  and  may 
form  a  composition  or  language  exercise  that  will  be 
enjoyed  by  the  class. 

Another  method  is  to  have  the  various  members  sug- 
gest lines  to  be  spoken  by  the  different  characters  and 
choose  the  best  for  the  play.  Sometimes  a  child  who 
does  little  in  the  usual  composition  work  and  never 
gets  a  high  mark,  will  suggest  an  excellent  line  or 
sentence,  and  to  have  it  go  into  the  play  is  a  tremendous 
joy  to  him,  especially  if  he  doubts  his  own  ability. 
Another  plan  that  makes  the  class  interest  keen,  is  for 
each  member  to  plan  or  write  a  scene,  and  without  the 
members  knowing  the  authorship  of  the  various  papers, 
have  them  read,  and  select  the  best  by  vote,  whereupon 
the  name  of  the  writer  is  revealed.  This  method  can 
be  used  in  writing  parts  for  one  character  or  for  all  the 
characters,  and  in  several  other  ways  that  will  be  of 
much  value  to  the  children. 

Of  course  the  teacher  or  leader  must  be  the  guiding 
spirit,  because  a  well-built,  correctly  proportioned  plot 
is  necessary.  But  her  suggestion  should  be  chiefly 
by  way  of  question,  leaving  the  children  to  feel  that  they, 
and  not  the  instructor,  are  doing  the  work,  although  in 
reality  the  teacher's  judgment  is  the  foundation  upon 
which  the  structure  stands,  and  she  must  use  it  in  build- 
ing the  play  just  as  she  uses  it  in  telling  the  story. 


114  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

For  little  people  there  are  many  stories  with  dramatic 
possibilities,  some  of  which  may  be  acted  wholly  in 
pantomime,  some  with  combined  pantomime  and 
spoken  parts,  and  others  entirely  of  spoken  parts. 
In  working  with  foreign  children  it  is  well  to  begin  with 
pantomime  plays,  as  the  child  who  knows  he  cannot 
express  himself  easily  in  English  will  always  balk  at 
taking  a  speaking  part.  Some  of  yEsop's  fables  lend 
themselves  particularly  well  to  pantomime,  especially 
"The  Lion  and  the  Mouse,"  " The  Fox  and  the  Grapes," 
"The  Dog  and  His  Shadow,"  and  "The  Hare  and  the 
Tortoise."  The  Dramatic  Festival,  by  Craig,  and  Fes- 
tivals and  Plays,  by  Chubb,  give  valuable  suggestions 
for  pantomime  work,  as  well  as  a  list  of  plays  adapted 
to  it,  and  the  worker  with  older  children  will  also  find 
these  books  to  be  excellent  guides. 

There  is  an  equally  large  amount  of  material  for  dra- 
matic work  with  older  children.  Hiawatha  never  fails 
to  delight  fourth  and  fifth  grade  boys  and  girls.  Robin 
Hood  in  dramatic  form  is  loved  even  more  than  in  story, 
as  are  some  of  the  exploits  of  King  Arthur  and  his 
knights  and  of  Pwyll,  the  hero  of  the  Mabinogion.  Any 
of  these  tales  may  be  carried  out  simply  or  may  be 
worked  into  elaborate  performances  with  costumes  and 
stage  settings.  If  the  latter  be  the  choice,  much  pleas- 
ure and  useful  experience  will  come  to  the  children 
through  making  the  properties.  Any  boy  who  can 
whittle  can  fashion  spears  and  swords,  and  gold  and 
silver  paper  is  wonderfully  effective  in  supplying 
glitter.  Does  a  knight  need  colored  hose  to  be  in  keep- 
ing with  his  doublet?  Let  him  borrow  a  pair  of  his 
mother's  or  sister's  white  ones  and  coat  them  with 


Dramatization  115 

blackboard  crayon  of  the  desired  hue.  One  laundering 
will  make  them  spotless  again,  and  there  is  no  outlay  of 
money  for  something  that  must  be  discarded  at  the  end 
of  the  performance.  Helmets,  shields,  and  pilgrim 
hats  can  be  made  by  the  manual-training  boys,  and 
girls  in  the  domestic-science  class  will  enjoy  sewing  the 
costumes. 

The  teacher  in  the  ungraded  school  is  particularly 
fortunate  in  opportunities  for  this  kind  of  work,  because 
she  can  correlate  it  with  other  subjects  in  ways  that 
workers  in  schools  using  the  departmental  system  can- 
not do.  One  country  teacher  had  her  eighth-grade 
history  class  give  a  pageant  portraying  the  French  ex- 
ploration in  the  Mississippi  Valley.  The  class  devoted 
a  term  to  the  preparation ;  the  subject  was  made  the 
nucleus  of  their  reading,  language,  history,  and  manual 
work,  and  the  results  were  most  gratifying.  Boys 
who  never  had  written  a  readable  paper  did  some 
astonishingly  good  work  in  composition  because  of 
their  interest  in  the  play  and  their  desire  to  con- 
tribute to  it,  and  the  standard  of  class  scholarship 
was  raised,  to  say  nothing  of  the  joy  the  children 
derived  from  it. 

Many  other  historical  subjects  are  equally  rich  in 
possibilities.  The  Spanish  exploration  in  Florida,  the 
Dutch  in  New  York,  the  Spanish  settlement  of  Cali- 
fornia, the  framing  and  adoption  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  John  Smith  and  Pocahontas,  Ponce  de 
Leon  seeking  the  fountain  of  youth,  the  story  of  Colum- 
bus, and  many  similar  themes  afford  good  opportu- 
nities for  class  play-making  and  correlation  of  school 
subjects. 


116  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Sometimes  a  picture  will  suggest  an  entire  scene  in  a 
dramatization,  or  even  an  entire  play ;  the  following 
are  especially  good  for  this  purpose : 

BACON  :  The  Burial  of  Miles  Standish. 

BALACA  :  Departure  of  Columbus  from  Palos. 

BOUGHTON  :    Pilgrims  Going  to  Church ;    Pilgrim  Exiles ;  The  Return 

of  the  Mayflower ;   Priscilla. 
KAULBACH  :  The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin. 
PILOTY  :  Columbus  on  the  Deck  of  the  Santa  Maria. 
VAN  DER  LYN  :  The  Landing  of  Columbus. 

Those  wishing  to  make  a  specialty  of  dramatization 
will  find  the  following  books  helpful : 

CHUBB  :  Festivals  and  Plays. 

CRAIG  :   The  Dramatic  Festival. 

CURTIS  :    The  Dramatic  Instinct  in  Education. 

The  following  are  excellent  stories  for  dramatic 
work  with  little  children,  and  are  included  in  so  many 
books  that  they  are  available  to  every  teacher  : 

Three  Billy  Goats  Gruff ;  The  Wolf  and  the  Seven  Little  Kids ;  Chicken 
Little;  The  Old  Woman  and  Her  Pig;  The  Pig  Brother;  The 
Gingerbread  Boy;  The  Boy  Who  Cried  Wolf;  The  Town  Musi- 
cians; Mother  Goose  Rhymes;  The  Three  Bears;  The  Pancake; 
The  Discontented  Pig. 

Many  others  will  be  found  in  the  list  of  story  col- 
lections for  children  in  the  rhythmic  period,  and  in  the 
bibliography  on  the  following  page. 


Dramatization  117 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  MATERIAL  FOR  DRAMATIZATION 
For  Primary  Grade  Children 

BELL,  FLORENCE  E. :    Fairy  Tale  Plays  and  How  to  Act  Them. 
CHADWICK,  M.  L.  PRATT-,  and  FREEMAN,  E.  GRAY  :   Chain  Stories  and 

Playlets. 

NixoN-RouLET,  M.  F. :    Fairy  Tales  a  Child  Can  Read  and  Act. 
NOYES,  M.  I.,  and  RAY,  B.  H. :   Little  Plays  for  Little  People. 
PERRY,  S.  G.  S. :   When  Mother  Lets  Us  Act. 

STEVENSON,  AUGUSTA  :  Children's  Classics  in  Dramatic  Form,  Books  1-3. 
WELLS,  CAROLYN  :  Jolly  Plays  for  Holidays. 

For  Intermediate  Grade  Children 

HARRIS,  F.  J. :  Plays  for  Young  People. 

SIDGWICK,  ETHEL  :  Four  Plays  for  Children. 

SPOFFORD,  HARRIET  PRESCOTT  :   The  Fairy  Changeling. 

STEVENSON,  AUGUSTA  :  Children's  Classics  in  Dramatic  Form,  Books  4-6. 

St.  Nicholas  Book  of  Operettas  and  Plays. 

For  Grammar  Grade  Children 

FRANK  :  Short  Plays  about  Famous  Authors. 
LANSING,  M.  F. :   Quaint  Old  Stories  to  Read  and  Act. 
LUTKENHAUS,  A.  M.,  and  KNOX,  MARGARET  :  Plays  for  School  Children 
RUCKER  and  RYAN  :  Historical  Plays  of  Colonial  Days. 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 
BIBLE  STORIES 

ONE  of  the  glaring  defects  of  our  modern  educa- 
tional system  is  that  almost  no  provision  is  made 
for  the  study  of  the  Bible  as  a  great  classic,  and  as  a 
result  boys  and  girls  complete  grammar  and  high-school 
courses  without  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  epic  of  the 
Hebrews  to  enable  them  to  understand  the  world's 
best  literature.  The  myths  of  Greece  and  Rome  are 
studied  because  of  their  cultural  value,  yet  from  univer- 
sities throughout  the  country  comes  the  complaint  that 
many  of  the  works  of  famous  authors  are  beyond  the 
enjoyment  of  students  because  the  Biblical  allusions 
have  no  meaning  for  them.  What  should  be  as  familiar 
as  "Red  Riding  Hood"  and  "Cinderella"  is  known  in 
name  only,  and  the  immortal  book  is  regarded  as  a 
repository  of  golden  texts  and  maxims  instead  of  as 
a  glorious  artistic  creation. 

The  masses  of  children  know  almost  nothing  of  the 
story  of  Israel,  because  outside  of  the  Sunday  school 
and  the  exceptional  home,  it  is  rarely  told.  Yet  edu- 
cators emphasize  its  need  in  the  intellectual  as  well  as  in 
the  spiritual  development  of  the  child,  and  declare  that 
the  Old  Testament  tales  should  be  as  much  a  part  of 
the  school  curriculum  as  are  the  myths  of  Greece  and 
Rome  and  the  northland.  Rein,  the  great  German 
educator,  advocates  using  them  in  the  third  and  fourth 
grades  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  which  is  done  in 
the  state  schools  of  Baden,  while  in  America  Dr.  G. 
Stanley  Hall  pleads  eloquently  in  behalf  of  Bible 
stories. 

118 


Bible  Stories  119 

"To  eliminate  the  Bible  from  education,"  says  this 
famous  psychologist,  "is  as  preposterous  pedagogically 
as  it  would  have  been  in  the  days  of  Plato  to  taboo 
Homer  from  the  education  of  Greek  youth.  It  is  not 
only  a  model  of  English,  but  it  is  impossible  to  under- 
stand the  culture  history  of  Europe  without  it,  as  it 
has  influenced  the  literature,  history,  and  life  of  Western 
nations  as  no  other  book  has  begun  to  do." 

The  secular  narrator,  as  well  as  the  teacher  of 
religion,  should  use  the  Bible  tales  freely,  that  men 
and  women  of  the  future  may  have  a  broader  knowl- 
edge of  literature,  history,  and  life  than  they  can  have 
without  them.  This  is  no  impossible  task,  even  for 
the  amateur,  because  the  Biblical  narratives  are  per- 
fect ones  for  telling.  Nowhere  else  in  literature  do  we 
find  such  thrilling  tales  of  adventure,  such  exquisite 
idylls,  such  sublime  ballads,  such  annals  of  high  purpose 
and  noble  achievement,  as  in  the  epic  of  Israel.  No- 
where else  are  there  more  spectacular,  perfectly  con- 
structed plots.  Ruskin  said,  "It  would  be  pre- 
eminently the  child's  book  even  though  it  had  no 
religious  value  above  other  books" ;  and  Dr.  Fuchs  of 
Vienna  declares  that  we  might,  If  we  lacked  material, 
give  children  nothing  but  Bible  stories  and  yet  satisfy 
every  craving  of  their  natures,  because  the  Bible  con- 
tains every  type  of  tale  that  appeals  to  the  child. 
From  Genesis  to  Revelation  it  is  an  incomparable 
record  of  human  desire,  human  endeavor,  human  failure, 
and  human  success.  In  the  Old  Testament  we  find 
myth,  fairy  tale,  fable,  romance,  legend,  and  history, 
told  in  simple,  elemental  beauty  by  the  Hebrew  story- 
tellers, tinged  with  that  varied  color  and  imagery  so 


120  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

characteristic  of  oriental  literature  and  so  fascinating 
to  children,  —  stories  that,  as  Mrs.  Hough  ton  says, 
"are  the  product  of  a  child  nation,  and  therefore  very 
close  to  the  heart  of  the  child." 

The  Old  Testament,  rather  than  the  New,  is  the  child's 
storybook,  because  it  is  the  expression  of  a  primitive 
people,  and  its  tales  picture  primitive,  rugged  heroes 
that  boys  and  girls  can  understand,  whereas  the  second 
division  of  the  Bible,  except  that  portion  centering 
around  the  childhood  and  boyhood  of  Christ,  is  adult 
in  character.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  that  all  Old 
Testament  tales  can  be  presented  with  gratifying  re- 
sults. To  tell  the  story  of  Ruth  and  Boaz  to  tiny  tots 
would  be  as  absurd  as  to  give  them  the  Decameron 
of  Boccaccio  or  Goethe's  Faust,  because  the  characters 
and  incidents  are  remote  from  their  interest.  In  using 
material  from  the  Bible,  as  from  any  other  source,  it 
is  necessary  to  keep  in  mind  the  story  interests  of  child- 
hood, and  to  remember  that  the  skeletons  of  tales,  not 
the  style  and  vocabulary  in  which  they  are  written, 
must  be  the  test  for  selection.  If  the  framework  is 
suited  to  the  period  of  mental  development,  the  lan- 
guage can  be  adapted,  while  otherwise  no  amount  of 
simplifying  can  bring  it  within  the  understanding  and 
powers  of  enjoyment. 

The  Old  Testament  is  particularly  rich  in  stories  for 
children,  because  it  was  formulated  in  a  period  when  the 
Hebrew  nation  was  a  child  nation.  The  men  and 
women  of  Israel  were  grown  to  adult  stature,  but  they 
had  the  hearts  of  children.  They  thought  concretely, 
as  the  child  thinks,  and  consequently  their  literary 
expression  is  concrete  and  illustrative.  This,  added  to 


Bible  Stories  121 

the  facts  that  they,  like  all  other  orientals,  loved  the 
story  and  brought  it  to  a  high  artistic  point,  and  that  the 
Old  Testament  heroes  are  not  refined  to  the  point  of 
aestheticism,  but  are  strong,  rugged,  elemental  men, 
thoroughly  human  and  far  removed  from  goody- 
goodies,  makes  it  an  ideal  book  for  the  child.  Gideon 
and  Joshua  possess  virtues,  but  they  possess  faults  also. 
They  are  punished  and  they  are  rewarded,  and  because 
they  have  much  in  common  with  children,  the  lessons 
learned  through  their  victories  and  defeats  are  more 
valuable  than  a  thousand  admonitions. 

In  advocating  the  use  of  Bible  stories  a  word  of 
caution  seems  necessary,  lest  the  narrator,  actuated 
by  the  laudable  desire  to  enrich  the  intellectual  and 
spiritual  life  of  the  child,  may  harm  instead  of  benefit. 
The  Hebrew  people  were  in  a  state  of  advanced  bar- 
barism when  their  tribal  achievements  grew  into  an 
epic,  and  the  deeds  of  their  heroes  are  often  so  blood- 
thirsty and  revengeful  that  they  cannot  be  reconciled 
with  modern  views.  Boys  and  girls  are  quick  to 
realize  this,  and  consequently  many  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment tales  must  be  softened  by  the  elimination  of 
objectionable  features,  just  as  many  fairy  and  epical 
tales  must  be  softened. 

Nor  are  gore  and  revenge  the  only  elements  we  must 
cut  away  from  these  old  tales.  Those  who  give  the 
narrative  of  Israel  to  boys  and  girls  of  twelve  and 
fourteen  should  be  careful  to  eliminate  from  it  every- 
thing that  may  be  suggestive  of  the  vulgar,  for  which, 
at  this  age,  many  children  are  on  the  lookout.  It  is 
better  to  omit  than  to  veil  and  modify  questionable 
portions  of  a  tale,  because  young  people  are  very  dis- 


12*  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

earning,  and  to  see  through  gossamer  is  to  arouse 
curiosity.  Dr.  Bodley  cites  instances  of  youths  in  the 
romantic  period  reading  the  Bible  because  of  lewd 
thoughts.  This  danger  leads  some  persons  to  decry 
the  use  of  Bible  stories  by  the  average  narrator,  in 
whose  hands  they  believe  them  to  be  dangerous. 
However,  if  he  uses  judgment,  if  he  makes  it  a  rule 
to  omit  whatever  awakens  a  doubt  in  his  mind,  even 
the  amateur  may  tell  Bible  stories  with  beneficial 
results.  It  is  possible  to  eliminate  from  many  an 
Old  Testament  narrative  without  breaking  the  thread 
of  the  story,  just  as  it  is  possible  to  give  boys  and  girls 
a  clear  idea  of  the  man  Chopin  without  introducing 
the  George  Sand  episode.  So  much  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  pure  adventure  tale  that  the  story-teller  may 
use  the  portion  that  feeds  the  elemental  hero  love 
without  touching  upon  what  might  arouse  morbid 
curiosity  or  desire,  or  that  which  sanctions  gore  and 
revenge. 

Those  who  have  not  had  training  in  gathering  and 
adapting  story  material  from  the  Bible  will  be  aided 
greatly  in  their  work  by  Frances  Jenkins  Olcott's 
book,  Bible  Stories  to  Read  and  Tell  Miss  Olcott  gives 
the  stories  as  they  are  given  in  the  King  James  Version, 
preserving  all  the  beauty  of  language  of  the  Hebrew 
story-tellers,  but  she  has  excluded  everything  that 
might  prove  objectionable;  and  with  this  book  as  a 
guide  there  is  little  danger  of  making  a  mistake  in 
telling  the  Hebrew  hero  tales  to  children. 

Bible  stories  should  be  graded  as  carefully  as  fairy 
stories  are  graded.  In  choosing  for  little  children,  select 
those  whose  heroes  are  children,  and  give  to  the  boy 


Bible  Stories  123 

who  craves  the  heroic  the  incomparable  tales  of  the 
Hebrew  wanderers,  those  men  whose  lives  were  a  varied 
succession  of  adventures.  For  the  child  of  each  period 
there  is  a  wealth  of  material.  The  stories  of  the  baby 
Moses,  Little  Samuel,  the  boy  Joseph,  the  boy  Timothy, 
the  boy  David,  and  the  baby  Isaac  are  very  appealing 
to  six-  and  seven-year-olds.  They  love  also  to  hear  of 
the  mother  and  the  baby  Samson,  of  Ishmael  and  Hagar, 
and  those  other  mothers  and  babies  of  long  ago,  and 
especially  dear  to  them  is  the  story  of  the  Babe  of  Beth- 
lehem. This  lovely  narrative  is  a  part  of  the  birth- 
right of  every  child,  and  is  exquisite  enough  to  merit 
careful  preparation  on  the  part  of  the  story-teller. 
The  Bible  itself  should  be  the  storehouse  to  which  the 
narrator  goes  for  material,  but  those  not  especially 
gifted  in  visualizing  and  imagination  will  derive  much 
help  from  the  work  of  modern  literary  artists  who  have 
told  again  the  story  of  the  Christ  Child.  The  eleventh 
and  twelfth  chapters  of  the  first  book  of  Ben  Hur,  the 
creation  of  a  man  whose  reverence  was  as  great  as  his 
talent,  should  be  re-read  by  every  one  who  attempts  to 
tell  of  the  song  and  the  star  in  Judea,  and  the  works  of 
Henry  van  Dyke,  Selma  Lagerlof,  and  John  of  Hildes- 
heim  will  aid  greatly  in  giving  color  and  atmosphere. 
This  means  time  and  labor,  but  no  amount  of  prepara- 
tion is  too  great  to  put  upon  the  world's  noblest  stories. 
The  narrator  should  approach  them,  not  arrogantly, 
and  satisfied  of  his  ability  to  tell  them  because  he  has 
known  them  from  childhood,  but  as  the  artist  ap- 
proaches the  masterpiece  he  aspires  to  copy,  willing  to 
labor  that  he  may  be  worthy  of  the  task,  willing  to  read 
them  over  and  over  again  and  count  each  reading  a 


124  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

return  to  the  fount  of  inspiration.  This  should  be  the 
attitude  toward  all  great  stories,  but  especially  toward 
the  immortal  ones  of  the  Bible. 

For  the  child  in  the  heroic  period  the  Old  Testament 
is  a  gold  mine,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  its  superb  adventure 
tales  are  so  little  used  by  story-tellers,  since  they  are  so 
fascinating  to  boys  and  girls.  Even  when  told  as 
separate  stories  they  arouse  interest  and  hold  the  atten- 
tion, but  they  are  most  valuable  when  given  in  a  se- 
quence, because  then  the  child  regards  the  Old  Testa- 
ment as  a  great  human  drama,  the  epic  of  a  people. 

A  good  plan  is  to  begin  with  the  call  of  Abraham,  as 
related  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Genesis.  Picture  the 
patriarch,  with  Lot  and  Sarah,  going  into  exile  out  of 
the  land  of  Haran,  through  Canaan  to  the  plain  of 
Moreh,  building  there  the  altar  under  the  soothsayer's 
oak,  and  journeying  southward  over  the  desert  to  Egypt. 
Tell  of  the  banishment  by  Pharaoh  and  the  return  to 
Bethel,  of  the  strife  between  the  herdsmen  and  the  sur- 
vey of  the  land,  of  the  captivity  and  rescue  of  Lot. 
Paint  vividly  the  highway  along  which  they  traveled, 
now  over  the  desert,  now  across  the  fertile  plain  skirting 
the  sea,  often  footsore  and  weary,  often  suffering  from 
heat  and  thirst  as  wanderers  in  the  East  suffered,  and 
the  story  will  cause  children  to  turn  from  the  cheap 
adventure  tale  of  today  as  music  lovers  turn  from 
ragtime  to  a  Chopin  prelude. 

Then  there  are  tales  of  those  other  Old  Testament 
wanderers,  Isaac,  "the  Ulysses  of  the  Hebrews,"  and 
Jacob,  whose  life  was  so  eventful.  Take  the  boys  over 
the  routes  these  men  traveled.  Let  them  share  their 
exploits  and  adventures,  resting  in  fertile  places  where 


Bible  Stories  125 

the  wanderers  rested,  now  by  the  well  outside  Nahor, 
the  servants  praying  beside  the  kneeling  camels  as 
Bethuel's  lovely  daughter  came  down  the  hillside  with 
the  pitcher  on  her  shoulder,  now  moving  as  the  caravan 
moved,  over  roads  the  Hebrew  armies  traveled  on  their 
way  to  war,  along  which  tradesfolk  journeyed  in  times  of 
peace.  There  is  marvelous  color  and  romance  in  these 
Old  Testament  thoroughfares,  and  they  are  highways  of 
fascination  even  today.  Still  across  their  yellow  sands 
turbaned  Arabs  go  up  and  down,  singing  praise  to  Allah 
just  as  men  sang  to  God  in  the  remote  time  of  Israel. 
They  bear  with  them  skin  bags  filled  with  water  from 
the  pools  and  streams,  dates,  figs,  and  dried  goat's 
flesh,  such  as  formed  the  noontide  repast  of  Isaac  and 
his  men,  for  in  the  changeless  East  life  is  today  as  it 
was  in  the  beginning  of  things.  When  the  caravans 
rest,  they  sit  under  the  palm  trees  in  some  oasis,  telling 
stories  their  fathers  told,  and  using  the  Old  Testament 
forms  of  speech.  Still  in  that  land  of  nomads"  to  see 
is  to  "lift  up  the  eyes,"  and  maidens  go  to  draw  water 
when  the  day's  heat  is  over  just  as  Rebecca  went  to  the 
well  of  Nahor. 

The  book  of  Joshua  is  a  glorious  adventure  story. 
The  siege  and  destruction  of  Jericho,  the  victories  of 
Joshua,  the  slave  boy  from  Egypt  who  became  the  first 
soldier  of  the  Hebrews,  the  distribution  of  Canaan 
among  the  tribes  of  Israel,  and  Othniel's  valor  and  re- 
ward satisfy  every  desire  of  the  child  who  craves  hero 
stories.  They  satisfy  now  as  they  satisfied  two  thou- 
sand years  ago,  because  they  grew  out  of  the  life  of  a 
people  and  run  the  entire  gamut  of  human  emotion  as 
only  racial  tales  can  do. 


126  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  book  of  Judges  is  a  collection  of  incomparable 
narratives.  The  enslavement  of  Israel  by  Jabin,  the 
defeat  and  death  of  Sisera,  and  Gideon's  deliverance  and 
victory  never  fail  to  hold  boys  and  girls  who  crave 
the  heroic.  Moreover,  these  stories  will  arouse  interest 
in  perhaps  the  finest  ode  known  to  any  literature,  the 
song  of  Deborah  in  the  fifth  chapter  of  Judges.  Give 
the  children  some  idea  of  what  it  has  meant  to  the  world. 
Ruskin  said  the  memorizing  of  it  in  his  boyhood  shaped 
his  taste  for  literature,  and  Macaulay  declared  it  in- 
spired him  to  write  "Horatius  at  the  Bridge."  Read 
the  work  of  the  English  poet,  and  bring  out  the  lovely 
pictures  in  the  great  Hebrew  ode,  for  it  is  not  fair  to 
our  young  people  that  we  allow  them  to  go  through 
life  without  knowing  this  gem,  without  leading  them 
to  see  the  beauty  of  these  exquisite  words : 

Speak,  ye  that  ride  on  white  asses,  ye  that  sit  in  judgment 
and  walk  by  the  way. 

They  that  are  delivered  from  the  noise  of  archers  in  the 
places  of  drawing  water,  there  shall  they  rehearse  the  right- 
eous acts  of  the  Lord. 

Visualize  the  scenes  in  those  lines:  sumptuous, 
haughty  Hebrews,  traveling  as  only  the  prosperous 
traveled ;  men  in  the  fine  linen  of  lawgivers,  holding 
places  of  power  in  the  land ;  vagabonds  lounging  along 
the  highways,  begging  alms  of  passers-by ;  husbandmen 
tilling  fields  far  from  the  sound  of  conflict;  men  in 
every  walk  of  life,  widely  separated  by  material  condi- 
tions, yet  brothers  in  a  common  weal,  rejoicing  in  a 
common  blessing,  the  victory  of  Barak  over  the  foe  of 
Israel.  It  is  as  rich  in  color  as  a  canvas  by  Titian,  and 


Bible  Stories  127 

pupils  in  the  upper  grammar  grades  will  grow  to  love  it 
if  it  is  presented  as  it  should  be,  through  the  medium  of 
the  story. 

The  books  of  Samuel,  with  their  tales  of  Saul  and  of 
David,  of  the  shepherd  boy  from  the  Hebron  hills 
making  music  for  Israel's  king,  his  meeting  and  slaying 
Goliath,  Saul  and  the  Witch  of  Endor,  and  all  the  event- 
ful life  of  David  are  glorious  materials  for  the  story- 
teller. Here  again  inspiration  may  be  obtained  from 
the  work  of  a  modern  writer.  Browning's  "Saul "  will 
greatly  aid  the  narrator  in  telling  the  story  of  the  boy 
David,  for  the  picture  the  poet  gives  of  the  afflicted 
monarch  in  his  tent,  the  son  of  Jesse  standing  beside 
him  singing  the  Hebrew  gleaning  songs,  is  as  vivid  as  it 
is  exquisite. 

Where  can  we  find  a  more  splendid  narrative  than 
that  of  Solomon,  in  the  second  book  of  Kings  ?  Where 
is  the  boy  or  girl  who  does  not  delight  in  listening  to  the 
account  of  the  visit  of  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  when  two 
sumptuous  monarchs  met ;  of  the  collection  of  materials 
and  the  building  of  the  temple ;  of  the  visit  of  the  Queen 
of  Sheba,  the  adversity  and  death  of  Solomon,  and 
that  succession  of  events  that  led  to  the  captivity  of 
Israel  ?  Here,  too,  we  find  the  great  story  of  the  inva- 
sion of  Judah  and  the  destruction  of  Sennacherib ;  and 
Byron's  poem  will  vivify  this  tale  just  as  Browning's 
"  Saul "  vivifies  that  of  the  boy  David. 

The  only  reason  why  children  look  upon  the  Bible 
as  a  dull,  ponderous  book  is  that  they  are  not  familiar 
with  the  Old  Testament  adventure  tales,  and  it  is  a 
mistake  to  think  that  present-day  boys  and  girls  will 
turn  away  from  them.  If  playground  and  settlement 


128  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

workers  would  give  more  time  and  attention  to  the 
stories  of  the  Hebrews,  they  would  have  less  difficulty 
in  reaching  hoodlumish  boys.  It  is  necessary  to  use 
tact  in  presentation,  —  "sense,"  as  Lilian  Bell  says, 
"of  the  brand  commonly  known  as  horse,"  —  for  to 
preface  a  narrative  with,  "  Now  I  shall  tell  you  a  Bible 
story,"  might  mean  an  insurrection.  The  only  way  is 
to  bring  the  hero  on  the  stage  and  tell  his  tale  so  vividly 
that  the  listeners  are  held  by  it  to  the  end.  After  they 
come  to  know  such  men  as  Gideon  and  Joshua,  they 
will  regard  the  Bible  as  a  great  storybook. 

A  settlement  worker  had  this  experience  not  long  ago. 
She  told  the  tale  of  Joshua  to  a  group  of  young  ruffians, 
who  sat  through  it  as  if  held  by  a  spell,  and  at  its  con- 
clusion the  leader  of  the  band  remarked,  "That  was 
some  story !"  Other  Old  Testament  heroes  were  then 
introduced  with  excellent  effect,  and  the  lads  were 
amazed  to  learn  that  the  Bible  contained  such  stories. 
But  results  of  this  kind  cannot  be  obtained  without 
effort  and  preparation  on  the  part  of  the  raconteur. 

Bible  stories,  being  the  perfect  tales  of  the  world, 
should  be  told  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  language  and 
style  hi  which  they  were  written.  Some  modification 
is  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  clarifying,  but  the  Biblical 
expressions  should  be  used  frequently.  Quote  freely 
from  the  original  or  follow  the  story  with  a  Bible  read- 
ing, that  the  child  who  hears  the  tales  may  catch  some- 
thing of  the  majestic  beauty  of  expression  of  the  Hebrew 
story-tellers.  There  can  be  no  more  pitiful  mistake  than 
to  tell  these  matchless  narratives  in  the  vernacular  of 
the  street.  To  use  modern  slang  in  recounting  the 
wanderings  of  Isaac  or  the  passing  of  the  Children  of 


Bible  Stories  129 

Israel  through  the  Red  Sea  is  to  profane  a  marvelous 
artistic  creation,  even  though  it  had  no  religious  signif- 
icance, and  unfortunately  story-tellers  sometimes  do 
this,  thinking  they  will  make  the  tales  more  interesting 
to  children.  That  sort  of  narration  will  amuse  and  hold 
young  folk  only  as  long  as  it  lasts,  and  leaders  of  children 
are  not  working  merely  for  the  here  and  now.  Their 
effort  is  for  time  and  eternity,  and  they  should  have 
sufficient  vision  to  see  beyond  the  present,  sufficient 
sense  of  proportion  to  estimate  values.  The  Old 
Testament  tales  need  no  modern  strokes  to  make  them 
attractive,  because  they  abound  in  color  and  incidents 
that  lead  to  superb  climaxes,  and  never  fail  to  fascinate 
when  given  with  sincerity.  Therefore  they  should  be 
told  in  simple,  dignified  language,  as  the  men  of  Israel 
told  them  when  the  world  was  young,  and  while  they 
fire  the  imagination,  they  will  lead  children  uncon- 
sciously to  an  appreciation  of  beautiful  English,  which 
is  one  of  the  cardinal  aims  of  every  story-teller  who  is 
worthy  of  the  name. 

The  teller  of  Bible  stories  should  draw  from  music 
and  art,  as  well  as  from  literature,  because  to  follow  a 
tale  with  a  picture  or  musical  number  inspired  by  it  is 
to  heighten  enjoyment  and  strengthen  the  impression 
already  made.  If  children  see  Bendemann's  master- 
piece, "By  the  Waters  of  Babylon,"  after  they  have 
heard  the  story  of  the  captivity  of  Israel,  they  will  have 
a  sympathy  for  the  exiled  Hebrews  that  they  cannot 
have  otherwise.  Saul,  David,  and  many  other  Old 
Testament  heroes  will  seem  more  than  ever  like  living, 
breathing  men  when  viewed  as  Michelangelo  portrayed 
them,  while  Giulio  Romano's  frescoes,  "The  Story  of 


130  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Joseph,"  or  Pellafrino  da  Modena's  "Story  of  Solo- 
mon," will  intensify  their  color  and  romance  and  help 
to  lead  to  an  appreciation  of  art.  Cheap  reproductions 
bring  these  and  other  masterpieces  within  the  reach  of 
the  narrator,  and  he  should  travel  every  bypath  in 
which  he  may  glean  materials  that  will  help  children 
to  love  these  old  tales.  He  should  keep  ever  before 
him  the  thought  of  how  they  have  enriched  the  world, 
and  how  powerfully  lives  are  influenced  by  stories 
heard  in  childhood.  When  Bertel  Thorwaldsen  was  a 
blue-eyed  boy  in  Copenhagen,  he  heard  a  tale  that  long 
afterward  became  the  inspiration  of  "The  Lion  of 
Lucerne,"  and  young  Richard  Wagner,  playing  in  a 
Dresden  street  one  day,  crept  into  a  group  to  which  a 
strolling  bard  was  telling  the  medieval  legend  of  "Par- 
sifal." It  was  a  seed  planted  in  a  creative  mind,  and 
years  afterward  it  flowered  in  two  noble  operas  of  the 
Holy  Grail.  So  it  was  with  Goethe,  with  Browning, 
with  Byron,  and  many  other  great  men.  Perhaps  in 
your  group  of  youthful  hearers  there  may  be  a  boy  or  a 
girl  who  will  listen  as  gifted  children  of  the  past  have 
listened  to  an  old,  old  story,  and  perhaps  your  telh'ng 
it  may  result,  long  after  your  work  is  ended,  in  his  giving 
to  some  branch  of  art  a  creation  that  will  enrich  the 
world  through  generations  yet  to  come.  But  even 
though  there  be  no  budding  genius  among  your  auditors, 
sincere,  artistic  telling  of  the  Bible  stories  cannot  fail  to 
produce  great  results.  It  will  develop  the  emotional  na- 
ture of  the  average  child ;  it  will  broaden  his  sympathy 
and  increase  his  capacity  for  feeling,  make  him  more  sym- 
pathetic, more  responsive  to  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  his 
fellow  men,  and  better  fitted  to  become  a  useful  citizen. 


Bible  Stories  181 


SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  FOR  BIBLE  STORIES 

ABBOTT,  LYMAN  :  Life  and  Literature  of  the  Ancient  Hebrews. 

AGUILAR,  GRACE  :   The  Women  of  Israel. 

BARING-GOULD,  S. :  Lives  of  the  Saints. 

CANTON,  WILLIAM  :  A  Child's  Book  of  Saints. 

DEARMER,  MABEL  :  A  Child's  Life  of  Christ. 

DOANE,  T.  W. :  Bible  Myths. 

FISKE,  JOHN  :    The  Myths  of  Israel;    The  Great  Epic  of  Israel. 

HODGES,  GEORGE  :  A  Child's  Guide  to  the  Bible. 

HOUGHTON,  LOUISE  S. :   Telling  Bible  Stories ;  Hebrew  Life  and  Thought. 

KENT,  CHARLES  FOSTER  :  Heroes  and  Crises  of  Early  Hebrew  History. 

LAGERLOF,  SELMA  :   Christ  Legends. 

OLCOTT,  FRANCES  JENKINS  :  Bible  Stories  to  Read  and  Tell. 

SANGSTER,  MARGARET  E.,  and  YONGE,  CHARLOTTE  M. :   Stories  from 

the  Best  of  Books. 

SMITH,  GEORGE  A. :   A  Historical  Geography  of  the  Holy  Land. 
SMITH,  NORA  A. :  Old,  Old  Tales  from  the  Old,  Old  Book. 
VAN  DYKE,  HENRY,  ABBOTT,  LYMAN,  and  OTHERS:    Women  of  the 

Biblt. 


CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 
STORY-TELLING  AND  THE  TEACHING  OF  ETHICS 

rilHE  function  of  education  is  not  only  to  give  the 
JL  child  knowledge  and  a  capacity  for  acquiring 
further  knowledge  that  shall  equip  him  for  the  life 
struggle  and  make  success  a  possible  attainment, 
but  also  to  give  him  an  ethical  standard  that  shall 
make  him  fit  to  live  among  his  fellows  and  a  respect 
for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  or,  as  Goethe 
says  in  Wilhelm  Meister,  "Reverence  for  what  is  above, 
reverence  for  what  is  beneath,  reverence  for  what  is 
equal."  He  must  be  taught  to  realize  that  he  is  part 
of  a  great  unit  and  that  individual  desires  must  often 
give  way  to  the  welfare  of  the  many.  He  must  be 
taught  that  as  an  individual  he  owes  to  society  obe- 
dience to  the  laws  that  govern  society  and  allegiance 
to  the  principles  that  make  possible  a  harmonious 
family,  civic,  and  national  life.  Consequently  it  is 
required  of  every  teacher  that  she  give  ethical  instruc- 
tion, that  she  endeavor  to  bring  children  to  an  under- 
standing of  what  is  generally  accepted  as  right  and 
wrong,  and  implant  in  them  convictions  strong  enough  to 
cause  them  to  adhere  to  those  standards. 

In  establishing  ethical  standards,  as  in  establishing 
standards  in  art,  literature,  or  music,  we  must  appeal  to 
the  emotional  side  of  the  child  as  well  as  to  the  intel- 
lectual side.  We  must  lead  him  to  feel  that  the  right 
act  is  the  one  that  he  wants  to  do,  and  this  cannot 
be  accomplished  by  a  presentation  of  dry  facts  and 
precepts.  Every  teacher  knows  that  the  time  spent 
in  admonishing  a  child  what  he  ought  to  do  brings  no 

132 


Story-Telling  and  Teaching  of  Ethics          133 

gratifying  results.  He  is  not  swayed  to  repugnance 
for  one  act  or  to  admiration  for  another  by  being 
told  " Thou  shalt,"  or  "Thou  shalt  not. "  At  the  time 
the  command  is  given,  fear  may  cause  him  to  obey 
it;  but  conduct  that  is  the  result  of  force  does  not 
strengthen  the  character  or  teach  high  standards  of 
action.  It  tends  instead  to  harden  the  child  and  make 
him  determined  to  act  differently  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. Ethical  training  does  not  mean  to  attempt 
to  control  the  child,  but  to  enlighten  him  and  direct 
his  volition  to  the  point  where  he  will  attempt  to  control 
himself.  As  Ella  Lyman  Cabot  says,  "Its  aim  is  to 
make  the  best  there  is  so  inviting  to  the  child  that  he 
will  work  eagerly  and  persistently  to  win  it."  The 
ideal  that  is  held  up  to  him  must  be  so  beautiful  that 
he  will  be  willing  to  sacrifice  and  endure  hardship  in 
order  to  attain  to  it,  and  through  story-telling  he  may 
be  led  to  see  this  ideal  more  vividly  than  in  any  other 
way,  because  the  story  makes  right  acts  appealing 
and  wrong  acts  repugnant.  Moreover,  through  the 
narrator's  art  the  child  lives  the  experiences  of  the  tales 
he  hears.  He  suffers  with  the  evildoer  and  is  rewarded 
with  the  virtuous,  and  because  he  is  powerfully  moved 
by  a  narrative,  his  character  is  lastingly  affected  by  it. 
In  giving  ethical  instruction,  it  is  necessary  to  use 
the  right  material.  Tales  selected  for  this  purpose 
should  be  suited  to  the  child's  particular  period  of 
mental  development,  they  should  contain  a  lesson  the 
boy  or  the  girl  ought  to  learn,  and  they  should  be  strong 
and  virile  and  true  to  life.  Much  harm  is  done  by  tell- 
ing stories  of  unusually  good  children.  Such  young 
folk  are  unpopular  with  boys  and  girls,  and  the  story 


134  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

about  them  is  as  distasteful  as  is  the  "goody-goody" 
that  is  met  with  in  real  life.  Instead  of  being  an 
influence  toward  commendable  action  and  the  ac- 
ceptance of  a  higher  standard  of  right  and  wrong,  the 
over-idealistic  tale  antagonizes  the  child  and  goads 
him  toward  that  from  which  we  would  have  him 
veer  aside.  Perhaps  this  accounts  for  the  fact  that 
girls  often  enjoy  boys'  stories  more  than  those  written 
especially  for  girls.  The  normal  girl  wants  to  read 
and  hear  about  live,  natural  young  folk,  and  the  heroine 
who  has  drawing-room  manners  and  nothing  else  is 
very  far  from  her  ideal.  Story  characters  that  in- 
fluence children  must  be  human,  full  of  human  faults 
and  virtues.  From  their  failures  and  successes  young 
people  will  learn  many  valuable  lessons,  but  they  will 
learn  no  lesson  from  one  who  poses  as  an  unnatural 
young  saint. 

Moral  training  should  begin  with  the  babe,  and  there- 
fore the  mother  and  primary  teacher  need  stories  that 
have  ethical  values  as  early  as  they  need  Mother  Goose 
tales  and  jingles.  Very  early  in  life  the  child  must 
be  brought  to  realize  that  there  is  a  higher  law  than 
that  of  its  own  will  or  desire.  It  must  be  taught 
obedience,  cleanliness,  kindness  to  animals,  con- 
sideration for  the  rights  of  others,  truthfulness,  indus- 
try, honesty,  and  courtesy,  and  these  lessons  can  be 
inculcated  more  effectively  by  means  of  story-telling 
than  in  any  other  way.  The  tale  of  "The  Little  Red 
Hen"  doing  the  work  and  reaping  the  reward  of  her 
labor  is  a  sermon  on  industry  that  little  people  do  not 
forget.  The  story  of  the  farmer  boy  who  rolled  the 
stone  out  of  the  highway  because  he  feared  it  might 


Story-Telling  and  Teaching  of  Ethics          135 

cause  injury  to  some  one,  and  then  of  the  compensation 
that  came  to  him  at  the  hands  of  the  lord  of  the  village 
who  placed  it  there,  will  help  to  make  children  thought- 
ful and  kindly. 

In  telling  stories  of  this  type,  the  narrator  should 
emphasize  the  fact  that  the  greatest  reward  is  the 
mental  satisfaction  that  follows  a  good  action,  because 
the  child  who  hears  much  of  material  reward  sometimes 
thinks  chiefly  of  the  money  or  picnic  or  good  time 
commendable  conduct  may  bring,  and  if  it  happens 
that  he  does  not  receive  remuneration,  decides  it  is 
useless  to  perform  good  deeds.  A  case  of  this  kind 
that  came  under  my  observation  was  that  of  a  boy 
in  a  country  school,  a  lazy,  thoughtless  little  fellow. 
One  day  when  a  man  drove  through  the  school  yard, 
his  brother,  who  was  very  considerate,  ran  to  open  the 
gate.  The  stranger  tossed  a  penny  to  the  child,  and 
the  teacher,  thinking  to  give  a  lasting  lesson  in  con- 
sideration to  the  thoughtless  boy,  dwelt  at  length  upon 
the  stick  of  candy  the  money  would  buy.  Several 
days  later  another  man  drove  through  the  school 
yard  and  the  thoughtless  boy  ran  to  open  the  gate. 
He  received  a  smile  and  a  "Thank  you"  but  no  money, 
and  he  could  not  be  persuaded  to  open  the  gate  again. 

It  is  well  to  give  stories  in  which  children  are  mate- 
rially rewarded,  but  they  should  be  taught  to  see  that 
material  reward  is  not  the  only  reward,  and  that  de- 
sire for  it  should  not  be  the  motive  that  prompts  a 
good  action.  The  fireman  who  risks  his  life  in  saving 
the  property  or  life  of  another  is  not  bountifully  paid, 
and  seldom  does  he  receive  a  purse  for  bravery.  But 
he  is  true  to  his  duty.  He  is  giving  to  society  the 


136  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

thing  that  he  owes  it,  service,  and  his  greatest  guerdon 
is  the  satisfaction  that  comes  from  being  steadfast  to  a 
trust.  Examples  of  this  kind  are  of  great  value  to  the 
child  who  is  inclined  to  be  selfish,  and  they  are  very 
effective  in  bringing  all  children  to  realize  the  xtruth 
of  Alice  Gary's  words : 

There  are  no  fairy  folk  who  ride  about  the  world  at  night, 
To  give  you  rings  and  other  things  to  pay  for  doing  right, 
But  if  you'll  do  to  others  what  you'd  have  them  do  to  you, 
You'll  be  as  blest  as  if  the  best  of  fairy  tales  were  true. 

Very  young  children  can  be  taught  to  realize  that 
the  true  reward  of  right  conduct  comes  from  added  self- 
respect  and  from  winning  the  esteem  of  others,  and 
whenever  a  child  is  given  a  tale  in  which  a  boy  or  a  girl 
receives  some  wonderful  treasure  for  kindness  or 
courtesy  or  truthfulness,  the  narrator  will  do  well  to 
interpolate  a  sentence  like  this:  "And  the  best  part 
of  it  was  that  Albert  was  happy  because  he  had  done 
what  was  right.  That  thought  gave  him  a  glad  feeling 
even  more  than  the  big,  shiny  dollar." 

Many  fairy  tales  and  fables  are  of  particular  ethical 
value  for  little  children,  and  the  narrator  can  draw 
much  from  the  field  of  general  literature;  biography 
and  history  hold  many  good  examples,  while  the  Bible 
is  a  rich  storehouse  of  material.  Ella  Lyman  Cabot's 
excellent  work,  Ethics  for  Children,  discusses  the 
ethical  side  of  story-telling  in  such  a  detailed  and 
complete  way  that  it  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every 
mother  and  teacher.  The  book  gives  valuable  sugges- 
tions, not  only  to  workers  with  little  folk,  but  to  those 
who  have  the  training  of  grammar  grade  and  high- 


Story-Telling  and  Teaching  of  Ethics          137 

school  pupils  also.  Carolyn  Sherwin  Bailey's  Stories 
for  Sunday  Telling  contains  some  good  material  for 
the  mother  and  the  primary  teacher,  while  the  several 
books  by  Sara  Cone  Bryant  (listed  in  Chapter  Seven, 
"Telling  the  Story")  will  be  helpful. 

The  following  list  is  one  that  has  been  used  with  good 
results  : 

STORIES  TO  DEVELOP  OR  STAMP  OUT  CERTAIN  TRAITS  AND 

INSTINCTS 

Deceit 

MSOP:    The  Fox  that  Lost  Its  Tail  (ADAMS,  WILLIAM:    Fables  and 
Rhymes  —  /Esop  and  Mother  Goose). 

Malice 
y£sop  :  The  Dog  in  the  Manger  (ADAMS,  WILLIAM  :  Fables  and  Rhymes 


Sympathy  and  Compassion 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:  A  Lesson  for  Kings  (Ethics  for  Children). 
SAWYER,  RUTH  :  The  Gipsy  Mother's  Story  of  Joseph  and  Mary  (This 
Way  to  Christmas). 

Honesty 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:  The  Little  Loaf  (Ethics  for  Children). 

Faithfulness  to  Duty 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Little  Hero  of  Haarlem  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 
GARY,  PHCEBE  :  The  Leak  in  the  Dike  (Poems). 

Inattention 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:    Epaminondas  and  His  Auntie   (How  to  Tell 

Stories). 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :   Stupid  Hans  (German  Household  Tales). 

Obedience 

PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E.  :    The  Little  Cowherd  Brother  (Siory- 
Telling  in  the  Home  and  School). 


138  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Generosity 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN  :  The  Boy  Who  Had  a  Picnic  (Stories  and 

Rhymes  for  the  Child). 
BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  CLARA  M. :    The  Woodpecker  Who  Was 

Selfish  (For  the  Children's  Hour). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  The  Cloud  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 
BULFINCH,  THOMAS:  Baucis  and  Philemon  (The  Age  of  Fable). 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:  Margaret  of  New  Orleans  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GARY,  ALICE  :  The  Pig  and  the  Hen  (Poems). 
GRIMM,  JACOB:   The  Star  Dollars  (German  Household  Tales). 
GRIMM,  JOSEPH:    The  Elves  and  the  Shoemaker  (German  Household 

Tales). 
WILDE,  OSCAR  :  The  Happy  Prince. 

Love  and  Sweetness 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Mirror  of  Matsuyama  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 
TOLSTOI,  LEO  :  Where  Love  Is,  There  God  Is  Also  (See  BRYANT  :  How 

to  Tell  Stories). 

Forgiveness 

BIBLE  :  The  Prodigal  Son. 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:  Lincoln  and  William  Scott  (Ethics for  Children). 
HUGO,  VICTOR:  The  Bishop  and  Jean  Valjean  (Les  Miserables). 
MOULTON,  LOUISE  CHANDLER  :    Coals  of  Fire  (In  CABOT  :   Ethics  for 

Children). 
TOLSTOI,  LEO  :  A  Spark  Neglected  Burns  the  Whole  House  (In  CABOT  : 

Ethics  for  Children). 

Cleanliness 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  S. :   The  Child  Who  Forgot  to  Wash  (Story-Telling 

Time). 

KINGSLEY,  CHARLES:    Tom,  the  Chimney  Sweep  (Water Babies). 
LINDSAY,  MAUD:   Dust  under  the  Bug  (Mother  Stories). 
RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :    The  Pig  Brother  (The  Pig  Brother  and  Other 

Stories). 

Perseverance 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :  The  Story  of  Helen  Keller  (Ethics  for  Children). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  Old  Jan's  Twilight  Tale ;  The  Joyous 
Vagabond;  The  Whittler  of  Cremona;  The  Border  Wonderful; 
Jacopo,  the  Little  Dyer  (Boyhood  Stories  of  Famous  Men). 

HOLLAND,  RUPERT  S. :  The  Boy  of  the  Medici  Gardens  (Historic  Boy- 
hoods). 


Story-Telling  and  Teaching  of  Ethics          139 

Industry 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  The  Gold  in  the  Orchard;  The  Castle  of 
Fortune;  The  Sailor  Man  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 

Contentment 

BROWNING,  ROBERT:  Pippa  Passes  (Poems). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Rat  Princess  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 

CABOT,   ELLA   LYMAN:     The    Discontented    Pendulum    (Ethics   for 

Children). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  The  Discontented  Pig. 
MENEFEE,  MAUD:  Pippa  Passes  (Child  Stories  from  the  Masters). 

Kindness 

MSOP:  The  Lion  and  the  Mouse  (ADAMS:  Fables  and  Rhymes — ASsop 
and  Mother  Goose). 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :  Five  Peas  in  a  Pod  (Wonder  Stories  Told  to  Chil- 
dren). 

BAILEY,  C.  S. :  The  Little  Brown  Lady  (Story-telling  Time). 

BROWN,  ABBIE  FARWELL  :  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  and  the  Wolf  (Book  of 
Saints  and  Friendly  Beasts). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  Prince  Cherry  (Stories  to  Tell  to  Children) ;  Why 
Evergreen  Trees  Keep  Their  Leaves  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:    Dama's  Jewels  (Ethics  for  Children). 

GRIMM,  JACOB  :  Snow  White  and  Rose  Red ;  Snow  White  and  the 
Seven  Dwarfs;  Queen  Bee  (German  Household  Tales). 

LONGFELLOW,  HENRY  :  The  Bell  of  Atri  (Poems) ;  (see  also  WIGGIN 
and  SMITH:  The  Children's  Hour). 

PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :  The  Stone  Lion ;  Little  Paulina's 
Christmas  (Story-Telling  in  the  Home  and  School). 

RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :  Florence  Nightingale  and  the  Shepherd  Dog 
(Florence  Nightingale,  the  Angel  of  the  Crimea). 

STOCKTON,  FRANK  R. :  Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  (LYMAN  :  Story-Tell- 
ing: What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It). 

Greed 

JEsop :   The  Dog  and  His  Shadow  (In  ADAMS  :   Fables  and  Rhymes  — 

Msop  and  Mother  Goose). 
HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL:    The  Golden  Touch  (Wonder-Book). 

Courtesy 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :  A  Four-Footed  Gentleman  (Ethics  for  Children). 


140  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

History  and  biography  offer  a  particularly  rich  field 
from  which  to  draw  material  for  older  children,  for 
nothing  drives  home  with  more  force  a  lesson  in  patriot- 
ism, loyalty,  faithfulness,  heroism,  or  obedience  than 
to  read  of  some  one  who  has  been  put  to  the  test  and 
has  triumphed.  Dozens  of  characters  worth  emu- 
lating will  occur  to  any  teacher,  and  the  following 
books  will  be  found  of  particular  value : 

SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  TO  USE  IN  THE  TEACHING  OF  ETHICS 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds. 

BOLTON,  SARAH  K. :  Famous  Leaders  among  Men;  Lives  of  Poor  Boyt 

Who  Became  Famous;   Lives  of  Girls  Who  Became  Famous. 
LANG,  ANDREW  :   The  True  Story  Book. 
LANG,  JEANIE  :   The  Story  of  Robert  the  Bruce. 
RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :   Florence  Nightingale,  the  Angel  of  the  Crimea. 


PART  TWO 

THE    USE    OF    STORY-TELLING    TO    ILLUMINATE    SOME 
SCHOOLROOM  SUBJECTS  —  STORIES  FOR  TELLING 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 
STORY-TELLING  TO  INTENSIFY  INTEREST  IN  HISTORY 

IT  has  been  said  by  Walter  Prichard  Eaton,  "The 
pupil  who  gets  a  mark  of  one  hundred  and  there- 
after hates  Shakespeare,  has  failed  —  rather,  his  teacher 
has,"  —  and  it  is  equally  true  that  the  instructor  also 
has  failed  whose  classes  look  upon  history  as  a  series 
of  dates  and  dull  facts  instead  of  a  colorful  story. 

To  teach  history  successfully  means  to  give  the 
child  vivid  pictures  of  the  past,  to  enable  him  to  see 
as  a  whole  the  march  of  a  race  or  of  a  nation  across 
the  canvas  of  time,  to  watch  the  legions  of  warriors 
go  to  victory  or  defeat,  to  hear  the  voices  of  statesmen 
whose  wisdom  has  builded  empires,  to  walk  side  by 
side  with  the  men  and  women  whose  lives  make  up  the 
annals  of  the  world.  To  be  of  value  to  the  child, 
history  must  be  felt,  just  as  a  work  of  literature  must 
be  felt.  He  must  live  it,  must  approve  the  worthy 
and  disapprove  the  unworthy,  must  rejoice  in  and 
sympathize  with  the  fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  its 
characters,  else  it  cannot  be  anything  more  to  him  than 
the  chronology  in  the  almanac,  disliked  during  his 
school  days  and  forgotten  as  soon  as  they  are  over. 

Story-telling  can  make  history  alive  and  vital  because 
of  its  power  to  convey  the  child  to  distant  scenes  and 
ages,  and  through  it  he  may  become,  not  only  a  spec- 
tator, but  a  participant  in  every  human  activity.  If 
our  libraries  were  to  be  swept  away  and  publishing 
houses  should  shut  their  doors,  we  could  still  teach 
history  to  children,  and  teach  it  successfully,  through 

143 


144  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  art  of  the  narrator.  By  the  medium  of  the  story 
we  can  make  the  child  see  what  has  been  done  by 
his  ancestors  and  other  people  hi  the  past ;  by  it  we 
can  interpret  to  him  how  his  forefathers  lived  and 
acted,  how  other  people  have  attempted  to  do  what  he 
is  trying  to  do  or  sees  done,  and  give  him  a  vivid  idea 
of  human  ways  of  living  and  conduct.  This  is  history 
in  the  larger  sense,  and  it  was  taught  successfully 
by  the  story-teller  in  the  past. 

Before  the  days  of  printing,  when  books  were  manu- 
scripts that  no  one  but  monks  could  read  and  kings 
could  afford  to  own,  story-telling  was  the  only  way 
in  which  this  subject  was  taught.  Tales  of  bygone 
days  were  told  in  castle  halls  and  to  groups  of  eager 
listeners  on  the  village  green,  and  boys  and  girls  of 
King  Alfred's  time  knew  as  much  of  their  country's 
story  from  the  lips  of  wandering  bards  as  those  of  our 
generation  know  from  cramming  the  contents  of 
textbooks.  They  knew  it  because  through  the  tales 
they  heard  they  were  able  to  relive  it,  and  what  has 
been  done  before  can  be  done  again.  Because  of  the 
story's  power  to  vivify,  modern  children  can  relive 
the  world's  story  just  as  those  in  medieval  tunes  relived 
it,  and  history  can  be  made  a  subject  fraught  with 
delight  to  the  child. 

Child  attention  centers  first  upon  familiar  things,  and 
radiates  from  them  to  the  unknown.  Through  his 
interest  in  creatures  that  are  a  part  of  his  environment, 
the  kindergarten  tot  becomes  interested  in  those  of 
other  regions,  in  the  men,  women,  children,  and  animals 
that  are  part  of  the  life  of  some  other  child.  Through 
knowledge  of  his  immediate  surroundings  he  comes 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         145 

to  acquire  knowledge  of  life  in  other  surroundings, 
and  according  to  the  appeal  it  makes  to  his  imagination, 
he  understands  and  sympathizes  with  it,  and  his  social 
sense  is  broadened.  Therefore,  in  the  study  of  history, 
the  attention  should  be  focused  upon  local  environ- 
ment, and  from  it  should  radiate  to  other  sections  of 
the  world.  In  other  words,  by  what  the  child  sees 
happening  around  him,  he  must  be  led  to  see  what  has 
happened  in  the  past  and  what  is  happening  now  in 
distant  regions.  This  requires  imagination,  and  a 
boy  or  a  girl  cannot  see  or  feel  these  events  if  they  are 
presented  as  a  dry  chronology,  because  under  those 
conditions  they  do  not  arouse  the  imagination.  He 
must  behold  them  flashed  on  a  canvas  like  a  colorful 
picture,  and  because  the  story  can  do  this,  because 
it  can  make  real  to  the  imagination  situations  that 
cannot  be  experienced,  through  it  he  can  be  led  to  see 
and  feel  all  that  we  desire  him  to  see  and  feel. 

The  biographical  story,  the  tale  of  the  leader  who 
towers  above  his  fellows  like  the  Matterhorn  above 
the  Valais  foothills,  is  a  boon  to  every  teacher  of  history. 
Because  it  is  unified  in  plot  and  dramatic  in  appeal 
to  the  imagination,  it  is  the  most  easily  handled  of 
all  the  history  material,  and  should  be  used  freely. 
But  if  children  are  not  to  have  a  distorted  idea  of  the 
story  of  the  human  race,  we  must  not  stop  with  the 
biographical  tale.  We  must  give  them  also  a  con- 
ception of  the  part  the  masses  have  had  in  the  making 
of  the  great  human  story,  of  the  yeomen  of  England, 
upon  whose  sturdy  shoulders  the  foundation  of  British 
liberty  stands,  of  the  vassals  of  Italy,  France,  and 
Germany,  of  the  army  of  unknown  toilers  who  built 


146  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  Pyramids  and  the  Chinese  Wall.  Sometimes,  in 
satisfying  the  child's  hero-love,  we  make  him  one- 
sided by  laying  too  much  stress  upon  individual 
achievement  and  not  enough  upon  the  work  of  the 
multitude.  We  do  not  lead  him  to  value  the  impor- 
tance of  the  humble  who  toil  in  the  rank  and  file.  This 
is  not  as  it  should  be.  We  should  make  it  clear  to  him 
that  the  stokers  who  feed  the  furnace  of  the  man-of- 
war  are  as  splendidly  patriotic  as  the  admiral  who 
commands  the  fleet,  and  are  as  necessary  to  their  land, 
because,  were  there  no  coal  heavers,  there  could  be  no 
navy. 

Sometimes,  too,  because  martial  events  are  more 
spectacular  than  those  of  peace,  we  give  the  impression 
that  they  are  the  only  important  and  heroic  ones,  and 
fail  to  convince  the  children  of  the  fact  that  the  peasants 
of  Lorraine,  who  tilled  their  fields  until  they  blossomed 
like  gardens,  served  their  land  as  loyally  as  the  soldiers 
who  marched  to  victory  under  the  oriflamme  of  Henry 
of  Navarre.  We  are  too  prone  to  center  the  child  in- 
terest around  military  affairs,  and  neglect  to  emphasize 
the  importance  of  conflicts  of  another  kind.  The 
history  of  every  modern  industry,  of  every  achievement 
that  has  meant  anything  to  the  world,  is  a  story  of 
struggle,  of  victory  over  opposing  forces.  It  has  its 
succession  of  events,  its  periods  of  triumph  and  defeat, 
its  moments  of  suspense,  and  its  thrilling  climax,  and 
if  presented  in  all  its  possibilities,  is  as  fascinating  to 
childhood  as  Napoleon's  Russian  campaign.  Let  us 
not  fail  to  give  these  narratives  of  struggle  that  are 
unstained  by  human  blood,  and  in  doing  it  lead  children 
to  understand  that  there  are  other  ways  of  serving 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         147 

one's  land  besides  riding  a  war  horse  or  carrying  a 
musket. 

We  teach  that  Robert  Fulton  invented  the  first 
steamboat,-  but  it  is  only  the  exceptional  child-leader 
who  makes  the  most  of  that  event,  who  throws  upon 
the  canvas,  for  youth  to  behold,  the  story  of  the  struggle 
and  disappointment,  the  triumph  and  despair,  of  the 
young  American  engineer.  To  give  them  the  fact 
that  the  Clermont  made  a  successful  trip  from  New 
York  to  Albany  in  1807,  is  like  telling  the  end  of  a 
story  without  the  beginning  or  intervening  chapters, 
and  a  snatch  of  a  tale  never  has  the  effect  of  the  whole. 
But  if  the  children  have  all  the  light  and  shade  of  that 
splendid  narrative  of  invention,  of  the  labor  beside 
the  Seine,  of  the  hope  and  discouragement  there,  it 
becomes  a  fascinating,  unforgotten  tale.  They  re- 
member the  Clermont  episode  because  they  have  en- 
joyed a  story,  and  years  afterward,  when  they  see  a 
ferryboat  or  an  ocean  greyhound,  they  will  think  of 
the  New  Englander  through  whose  dreams  and  labor 
it  came  to  be. 

To  the  teacher  who  looks  upon  history  as  a  great, 
fascinating  tale,  who  regards  it  as  a  narrative  instead 
of  a  mere  bunch  of  dates  and  periods,  who  knows  the 
story  of  man's  inner  development  as  well  as  that  of 
his  outer,  and  who  uses  the  myths,  legends,  and  epics 
of  a  land  as  side  lights  to  illuminate  its  true  story,  great 
results  are  possible.  There  is  no  phase  or  period  of 
history  that  he  cannot  make  intensely  interesting  to 
the  child,  no  page  of  the  world's  story  that  will  not 
teem  with  life  and  color  to  the  boy  or  girl  who  receives 
it  from  such  an  instructor.  It  may  be  an  account  of 


148  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

events  in  his  own  land,  of  happenings  in  the  stern, 
white  north  country  or  in  the  opalescent  south,  it  may 
be  of  knights  in  glittering  armor  or  of  serene-faced, 
brown-cowled  friars,  of  men  from  the  masses  or  from 
the  ranks  of  the  exalted,  but  it  will  breathe  and  pulsate 
for  him,  it  will  give  him  the  information  that  he  should 
receive,  and  it  will  give  him  an  understanding  that  no 
memorizing  of  dates  and  outlines  can  give,  because  he 
has  lived  with  those  who  made  history,  because  he  has 
suffered,  rejoiced,  and  achieved  with  them. 

Every  great  historian  is  more  than  a  recounter  of 
events  of  the  past.  He  is  an  artist  who  fits  himself 
into  the  moods  of  men  and  women  who  lived  and  ac- 
complished before  his  time,  puts  them  into  his  pages 
as  creatures  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  gives  to  their  activ- 
ities as  much  freshness  and  interest  as  have  the 
events  that  happen  before  our  eyes.  Motley,  Guizot, 
Hume,  Hallam,  Froissart,  and  our  own  Parkman, 
Lodge,  Prescott,  and  Bancroft  created  as  splendidly 
as  ever  Hugo,  Corneille,  or  Balzac  created,  because  they 
endowed  characters  of  fact  with  as  much  life  as  these 
other  men  gave  to  characters  of  fiction;  and  con- 
sequently, with  sources  rich  in  inspiration  from  which 
to  draw,  the  teacher  who  aspires  to  vivify  history  by 
story-telling  is  confronted  by  no  hopeless  task.  He 
need  only  go  to  the  works  of  the  standard  historians 
for  his  background,  and  then,  by  giving  the  imagina- 
tion sufficient  play  to  supply  setting  and  detail  of 
situation,  he  can  carry  a  joyful  lesson  to  the  children. 
This  is  well  illustrated  in  the  following  story  of  Western 
discovery.  Children  love  it  and  ask  to  have  it  told 
again  and  again,  while  if  the  bare  facts  are  given  them 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         149 

in  outline  form,  it  means  little  to  them.  Not  every 
teacher  is  gifted  to  the  degree  of  Miss  Hood  and  can 
hope  to  weave  a  fact  of  history  into  a  tale  that  deserves 
to  rank  as  a  children's  classic;  but  every  teacher  can 
put  history  into  story  form  with  enough  skill  to  make  it 
hold  delight  for  his  pupils  and  cause  them  to  go  from 
his  instruction  with  a  fondness  for  history,  an  under- 
standing of  what  history  really  means,  which  is  worth 
infinitely  more  than  a  thousand  dates  or  outlines 
crammed  into  the  mind  for  an  examination  or  recita- 
tion, or  stored  there  permanently  to  rust  and  grow 
useless,  because  they  have  no  meaning,  and  therefore 
no  broadening  or  illuminating  effect  upon  his  life. 

THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  SEVEN  CITIES 
By  MARGARET  GRAHAM  HOOD 

The  Story  of  Tejos 

In  the  year  1530,  when  Nufio  de  Guzman  was  governor 
of  New  Spain,  he  had  an  Indian  slave  of  whom  he  was  very 
fond  and  who  was  likewise  fond  of  his  master.  He  was  a 
good  servant  and  different  in  many  ways  from  all  the  other 
slaves  in  the  palace,  and  it  often  pleased  Nuno  de  Guzman 
to  talk  with  him. 

"Tejos,"  said  De  Guzman  to  him  one  day,  "tell  me  of 
your  home  when  you  were  a  boy,  and  tell  me  of  your  father 
and  mother." 

Then  Tejos  turned  away  from  his  master  and  stood  for  a 
long  time  silent. 

"Master,"  he  said  at  last,  "when  Tejos  was  a  boy  he 
lived  not  in  this  land,  nor  was  he  a  slave.  His  home  was  in 
a  land  far,  far  to  the  northward.  My  lord,  it  was  a  great 


150  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

land.  Beyond  the  home  of  my  father  there  was  yet  another 
country  greater  still.  In  that  farther  land  were  seven  great 
cities,  and  even  the  smallest  of  them  was  as  great  as  this 
city  of  Mexico.  So  rich  were  the  people  of  those  cities  that 
they  made  arrowheads  of  emeralds,  and  scraped  the  sweat 
from  their  bodies  with  scrapers  made  of  gold,  and  put  pre- 
cious stones  over  then*  doors.  Their  houses  were  wide  and 
high.  My  father  carried  to  these  people  the  feathers  that 
they  wore  upon  their  heads,  and  in  return  they  gave  him 
gold  and  turquoises  and  emeralds.  My  father  took  Tejos 
with  him  twice,  my  lord,  when  he  journeyed  with  feathers 
to  those  cities,  and  though  Tejos  was  then  but  a  small  boy, 
he  still  remembers  the  long  streets  where  were  only  the 
stores  of  jewelers  who  sold  the  precious  stones  and  made 
them  into  ornaments  for  the  people." 

"And  where,"  asked  Nuno  de  Guzman  breathlessly, 
"where  is  this  land?" 

"It  is  far  away  from  here,  my  lord,"  answered  Tejos, 
sadly.  "Forty  days  you  must  journey  to  reach  it,  and  the 
land  through  which  you  must  travel  is  a  desert  lying  between 
two  seas,  and  there  is  neither  water  nor  food  to  be  had." 

Scarcely  waiting  to  sleep,  De  Guzman  began  to  gather  a 
force  to  march  in  search  of  this  wonderful  land.  Far  and 
wide  the  story  spread  and  on  all  sides  the  talk  was  of 

The  Land  of  the  Seven  Cities 

With  four  hundred  Spaniards  and  twenty  thousand 
Indians,  De  Guzman  marched  from  Mexico,  and  the  people 
waited  each  day  to  hear  that  he  had  conquered  a  great 
empire  in  the  north. 

As  he  went,  rumors  of  the  Seven  Cities  kept  coming  to 
him,  and  his  men  were  often  so  excited  he  could  hardly  get 
them  to  sleep  enough.  For  days  they  pressed  eagerly  for- 
ward, hoping  each  day  to  find  the  Seven  Cities  at  hand  ;  but 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         151 

instead  of  this,  the  country  each  day  grew  more  desolate, 
the  mountains  grew  steeper  and  the  roads  harder  to  find, 
while  the  Seven  Cities,  instead  of  coming  nearer,  were  always 
farther  and  farther  to  the  north. 

Then  the  Indians  began  to  desert  and  the  Spaniards  to 
complain.  "We  have  been  deceived,"  they  said,  "and  we 
shall  all  die  in  this  bleak  land.  Let  us  return  to  Mexico." 

For  a  while  Nuno  de  Guzman  cheered  them  by  holding 
ever  before  them  the  reward  that  awaited  them,  but  at  last 
he  too  grew  discouraged  and  afraid ;  they  all  turned  about 
and  marched  sadly  back  to  Mexico. 

"We  will  go  back  now,"  said  Nuno  de  Guzman,  "but  some 
day  I  will  have  the  right  sort  of  an  army  and  I  will  come 
again.  Tejos  himself  shall  lead  me,  and  I  will  yet  find  and 
conquer  those  Seven  Cities." 

But  when  he  returned  to  Mexico,  Tejos  was  dead,  and 
the  story  of  Nuno  de  Guzman's  misfortunes  discouraged 
others ;  so  for  six  years  no  one  went  to  seek  the  Seven  Cities. 
Then  a  strange  thing  happened. 

The  Wanderings  of  Cabeza  de  Vaca 

Into  the  town  of  Culiacan  there  one  day  came  wandering 
four  strange  men.  They  were  barefooted  and  almost 
naked.  The  little  clothing  they  wore  was  made  of  skins 
and  hung  in  rags  about  them.  Their  hair  lay  in  a  tangled 
mass  upon  their  shoulders,  and  their  beards  reached  almost 
to  their  knees. 

They  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  first  Spaniard  they  met,  cry- 
ing, "Thank  God!  Thank  God!  At  last!  At  last!" 
Then  they  seized  his  hands  and  kissed  them,  kissed  each 
other,  and  danced  about,  clapping  their  hands  and  shouting 
for  joy. 

"They  are  madmen,"  said  the  people  who  gathered 
around  to  look  at  them.  "What  shall  we  do  with  them?" 


152  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  oldest  of  the  strangers.  "No,  no! 
You  do  not  understand.  We  are  poor  wanderers  who  have 
been  lost  for  years  among  the  Indians.  We  have  been 
slaves;  our  companions  have  died,  but  at  last  we  have 
escaped  and  now,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  we  see  Chris- 
tians and  Spaniards  and  our  joy  overcomes  us.  Can  you 
wonder  at  it,  dear  friends?" 

"Lost  among  the  Indians!"  murmured  the  people  in 
astonishment.  "Made  slaves  by  the  Indians!  Terrible! 
What  can  it  mean?" 

"There  is  something  very  strange  about  it,"  said  one. 

"Let  us  take  them  before  our  Capitan,"  said  another, 
and  they  took  them  at  once  to  the  Capitan. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked  rudely,  looking  with  disgust 
at  their  dirt  and  rags. 

"I  am  Cabeza  de  Vaca,"  said  the  oldest  man.  "I  am  a 
noble  of  Castile  who  came  with  Narvaez  to  conquer  Florida. 
The  fleet  was  wrecked  and  all  were  lost  save  these  three 
companions  and  me.  We  have  been  all  these  years  since 
among  the  Indians." 

"  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  the  Capitan.  "  There 
is  something  strange  about  it.  These  men  may  be  crimi- 
nals. Put  them  into  prison  until  we  find  out." 

For  three  months  they  lay  in  the  prison.  Then  they 
were  sent  for  by  the  Alcalde  Melchior  Diaz.  He  received 
them  with  all  kindness,  and  to  him  they  were  allowed  to 
tell  their  story. 

"Is  it  true,"  he  said  to  the  oldest  man,  "that  you  are 
Cabeza  de  Vaca  of  Castile?" 

"It  is  true,"  answered  Cabeza  de  Vaca.  "Ten  years  ago 
I  sailed  with  Narvaez  to  the  Florida  coast  to  take  part  in 
his  great  expedition,  but,  alas !  all  our  ships  were  wrecked 
and  only  a  few  of  us  escaped  to  the  mainland.  There  most 
of  those  who  did  escape  died,  and  we  four,  three  of  us  Span- 
iards and  one  a  negro,  have  wandered  ever  since  among  the 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         153 

Indians.  We  wept  for  joy  at  sight  of  our  own  people  when 
we  reached  your  town,  but  they  have  treated  us  worse 
than  did  the  Indians." 

"Do  not  think  of  that  now,"  said  kind  Melchior  Diaz. 
"It  was  a  mistake;  you  shall  now  be  treated  with  all  the 
kindness  that  is  your  due.  Tell  me  your  story." 

Then  Cabeza  de  Vaca  began  the  story  of  his  wanderings : 

"After  Narvaez  and  the  ships  were  lost,"  said  he,  "we 
escaped  to  the  mainland  and  were  taken  captive  by  the 
Indians.  They  were  a  poor,  starved  people  who  lived  on 
roots  and  berries  and  whatever  they  could  get,  and  who 
often  went  for  days  without  a  mouthful.  I  do  not  know 
how  many  years  they  held  us  as  slaves,  but  it  was  for  many 
years  and  our  sufferings  were  great. 

"We  tried  always  to  get  to  the  north,  and  little  by  little 
we  got  further  westward  and  northward. 

"At  last  we  escaped  from  those  Indians  who  held  us  as 
slaves  and  fell  in  with  others  farther  west  who  had  never 
seen  a  white  man.  We  had  with  us  a  rattle  such  as  is  used 
by  their  medicine  men,  and  this,  with  our  beards,  made  them 
think  we  were  from  heaven.  They  fell  on  their  faces  before 
us  and  gave  us  all  that  they  had. 

"We  told  these  people  we  wished  to  go  to  where  the  sun 
sets,  and  they  said,  'No,  you  cannot  go  there.  The  people 
are  too  far  away.' 

"It  makes  no  difference,'  I  said,  'you  must  still  lead  us 
there.' 

"We  saw  they  were  in  great  fear,  but  at  last  they  sent  off 
two  of  their  women  to  see  if  they  could  find  the  other  people 
and  tell  them  of  our  coming.  In  five  days  they  came  back. 
'  They  have  found  no  people,'  said  the  Indians  to  us.  '  Then,' 
said  I,  'lead  us  to  the  northward,'  and  again  they  said: 
'There  are  no  people  there.  Neither  is  there  food  or 
water.' 

"At  this  I  became  offended  and  went  apart  from  them, 


154  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

and  at  night  went  away  by  myself  to  sleep.  But  they 
came  at  once  where  I  was  and  remained  all  night  without 
sleep.  They  talked  to  me  in  great  fear,  telling  me  how 
great  was  their  fright,  begging  us  to  be  no  longer  angry; 
and  they  said  they  would  lead  us  whatsoever  way  we 
wished  to  go,  though  they  knew  they  should  die  on  the 
way. 

"We  still  pretended  to  be  angry,  lest  their  fright  should 
leave  them,  and  while  we  were  thus  pretending  a  remark- 
able thing  happened :  the  very  next  day  many  of  them  be- 
came ill,  and  eight  men  died.  They  believed  we  had  caused 
their  death  by  willing  it,  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  must  all 
die  of  fear. 

"In  truth,  it  caused  us  so  much  pain  to  see  them  suffer 
that  it  could  not  be  greater,  and  we  prayed  to  God,  our 
Lord,  to  relieve  them,  and  they  soon  got  better. 

"News  of  our  strange  power  spread  through  the  land,  and 
the  people  trembled  at  our  coming.  Sometimes  they  would 
come  to  meet  us,  and  bring  all  they  owned  and  offer  it  to 
us.  Or,  again,  when  they  heard  we  were  coming,  they  would 
go  into  their  houses  and  pile  all  their  goods  in  a  heap  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  for  us,  and  then  sit  down,  with  their 
faces  to  the  wall,  their  heads  bowed,  and  their  hair  drawn 
over  their  eyes.  Thus  they  waited  until  we  came  and  spoke 
to  them.  Then  they  gave  us  whatever  we  would  take  from 
them. 

"Wherever  we  went,  they  brought  then-  sick  to  us  and 
begged  us  to  cure  them.  We  always  examined  them  care- 
fully, and  treated  them  as  best  we  knew  how,  and  prayed 
earnestly  to  God  to  help  us,  and  they  nearly  always  got  well. 
Whenever  a  sick  man  got  well,  he  not  only  gave  us  all  that 
he  had,  but  all  his  friends  did  likewise. 

"As  we  pressed  westward  and  northward  we  came  all 
the  time  to  finer  Indians  who  had  more  wealth  and  better 
homes  than  those  farther  east. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         155 

"At  last  we  came  to  a  land  of  plenty.  The  people  lived 
in  houses  and  had  beans,  pumpkins,  and  calabashes  for 
food  and  covered  themselves  with  blankets  made  of  hides. 
They  were  the  finest-looking  and  strongest  people  we  had 
seen  and  intelligent  beyond  any  of  the  others.  They  had 
nothing  they  did  not  give  to  us.  They  begged  us  to  pray 
for  rain  and  told  us  that  for  two  years  not  a  drop  had  fallen. 
When  we  asked  where  they  had  got  their  food,  they  told  us 
from  the  land  of  the  maize.  Then  I  bade  them  tell  me  of 
this  land  of  the  maize,  and  they  told  that  beyond  them  was 
a  land  of  many  people  and  large  houses,  where  maize  grew 
all  over  the  land ;  that  the  people  of  that  land  were  wealthy 
and  wore  beautiful  plumes  and  feathers  of  parrots,  and  used 
precious  stones  for  arrowheads  and  to  decorate  their  houses. 
And  they  brought  to  me  five  beautiful  emeralds  cut  into 
arrowheads,  and  many  fine  turquoises  and  beads  made  of 
coral  such  as  come  from  the  South  Seas.  When  I  asked 
whence  they  got  these  stones,  they  pointed  to  some  lofty 
mountains  that  stand  toward  the/north  and  told  us  that 
from  there  came  the  precious  stones,  and  that  near  those 
mountains  were  large  cities.  They  said  that  in  those  cities 
the  houses  were  so  large  that  there  were  sometimes  three  or 
four  lofts  one  above  the  other." 

"And  did  you  not  go  to  those  cities?"  asked  Melchior 
Diaz,  eagerly. 

"No,"  answered  Cabeza  de  Vaca.  "I  did  not  go  be- 
cause I  heard  that  toward  the  sunset  were  other  men  of  my 
kind,  and  I  hurried  westward,  hoping  to  meet  them.  There- 
fore I  did  not  go  to  the  land  of  the  cities.  I  longed  once 
more  to  look  upon  the  face  of  a  Spaniard." 

"You  have  suffered  much,"  said  Melchior  Diaz,  "but  do 
not  think  of  it,  and  now  rest." 

Then  Melchior  Diaz  sent  off  a  messenger  to  Mexico  to 
carry  a  letter  to  the  Viceroy  de  Mendoza,  telling  him  of 
Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  his  strange  tale. 


156  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Forthwith  the  messenger  returned  with  a  letter  com- 
manding Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  his  companions  to  come  at 
once  to  Mexico  and  appear  before  the  viceroy. 

To  Mexico  they  went,  and  again  Cabeza  told  the  strange 
story  of  their  wanderings. 

"It  is  a  wonderful  story,"  said  the  viceroy,  when  he  had 
finished,  "and  you  certainly  deserve  to  spend  the  rest  of 
your  life  in  ease.  Say  the  word,  and  I  myself  will  send 
you  home  to  Spain." 

Cabeza  de  Vaca  almost  wept  for  joy  at  these  words. 
"Gladly  will  I  go,  dear  friend.  Gladly  will  I  go,  for  I  am 
weary  of  wandering  and  would  once  more  see  my  own 
country." 

So  Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  two  of  his  companions  sailed  off 
to  Spain,  and  the  Viceroy  de  Mendoza  thought  much  of 
the  wonderful  cities  far  to  the  northward. 

The  Journey  of  Fray  Marcos 

The  story  of  Cabeza  de  Vaca  set  all  New  Spain  talking 
once  more  of  the  Seven  Cities. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  people,  as  they  talked,  "of  course 
they  are  the  same  seven  cities  Nufio  de  Guzman  learned  of 
from  Tejos,  the  Indian.  He  did  not  get  the  right  directions, 
and  so  he  failed  to  reach  them.  But  now  we  know  they  are 
there,"  and  many  were  eager  to  set  out  at  once. 

But  the  Viceroy  de  Mendoza  was  a  quiet  and  careful 
statesman. 

"There  have  been  many  lives  lost  already,"  he  said,  "and 
it  will  be  better  not  to  be  in  too  great  a  hurry.  I  believe 
these  are  the  seven  cities  sought  for  by  Nuno  de  Guzman, 
but  I  shall  not  send  an  army  until  I  am  sure." 

Then  he  thought  of  a  monk  called  Fray  Marcos  of  Niza, 
who  had  been  much  among  the  Indians  of  the  north,  and  he 
sent  for  him  to  come  at  once  to  Mexico. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         157 

Fray  Marcos  came,  and  the  Viceroy  de  Mendoza  told 
him  the  story  of  Cabeza  de  Vaca. 

"Now,  Fray  Marcos,"  said  the  viceroy,  after  finishing  the 
story,  "if  we  should  send  an  army,  these  Indians  would 
surely  make  war  upon  us  and  both  for  them  and  for  us 
there  would  be  many  lives  lost.  You  understand  them,  and 
it  might  be  that  they  would  let  you  come  among  them  and 
learn  what  we  desire.  Perhaps  there  lies  to  the  northward 
as  great  a  nation  as  Peru  or  Mexico.  It  must  be  taken  for 
the  church  and  the  crown.  Will  you  not  be  the  one  to  carry 
the  message  of  the  cross  and  to  take  possession  of  the  coun- 
try for  the  king  of  Spain  ?  " 

"I  will,"  said  Fray  Marcos,  eagerly. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mendoza,  smiling.  "  The  negro  Stephen 
who  was  with  Cabeza  de  Vaca  is  here,  and  he  shall  be  your 
guide.  Remember  that  this  expedition  is  to  be  undertaken 
more  to  spread  our  knowledge  of  God  than  for  great  wealth. 
Therefore,  bear  in  mind  that  the  natives  are  to  be  treated 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  and  my  displeasure  will  fall  heavy 
upon  whosoever  shall  offend  them.  Say  to  them  that  the 
Emperor  is  very  angry  at  those  Christians  who  have  been 
unkind  to  them,  arid  that  never  again  shall  they  be  en- 
slaved or  taken  from  their  homes. 

"Take  special  note  of  their  number,  and  of  their  manner 
of  life,  and  whether  they  are  at  peace  or  at  war  among 
themselves.  Notice  the  nature  of  the  country,  the  fertility 
of  the  soil,  and  the  character  of  its  products.  Learn  what 
wild  animals  there  are  there,  and  find  out  if  there  are  any 
rivers  great  or  small.  Search  for  precious  stones  and  metals 
and,  if  possible,  bring  back  specimens  of  them.  Also  make 
careful  inquiry  if  the  natives  have  any  knowledge  of  a  neigh- 
boring sea. 

"  If  you  shall  succeed  in  reaching  the  Southern  Sea,  write 
out  an  account  of  all  your  discoveries  and  bury  it  at  the 
foot  of  the  tallest  tree  and  then  mark  the  tree  with  a  cross. 


158  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Do  the  same  at  the  mouth  of  all  rivers,  and  those  who  are 
sent  after  you  will  be  on  the  lookout  for  such  a  sign.  Take 
enough  Indians  with  you  so  that  you  can  send  them  back 
from  time  to  time  to  bring  to  us  reports  of  the  route  you 
have  taken  and  how  you  are  treated  by  the  Indians  you  meet. 
If  you  shall  come  to  any  great  city,  do  not  send  back  word 
but  come  yourself  and  tell  me  about  it.  And  lastly,  although 
all  the  world  belongs  to  the  Emperor,  be  sure  and  plant  the 
cross  in  those  new  lands  and  take  possession  of  them  in  the 
name  of  the  Spanish  crown,  and  never  forget  that  your 
life  is  of  great  value  to  your  church  and  your  country,  and 
do  not  risk  it  needlessly.  Now,  go.  Make  all  your  plans 
and  set  out  as  soon  as  may  be." 

Fray  Marcos  hastened  to  make  his  plans,  and  on  the 
seventh  of  March,  1539,  he  set  out  from  Culiacan  with  the 
negro  Stephen  and  a  few  faithful  Indians. 

Several  months  went  by ;  then,  at  the  end  of  September, 
1539,  a  traveler  in  a  monk's  gown  came  walking  alone  into 
Culiacan. 

"It  is  Fray  Marcos!"  cried  the  people.  "It  is  Fray 
Marcos,  who  went  to  search  for  the  Seven  Cities!"  "Did 
you  find  them,  Fray  Marcos?"  "Where  is  Stephen,  the 
negro?"  "Are  the  Seven  Cities  full  of  wealth?" 

But  Fray  Marcos  would  not  answer.  "I  have  much  to 
tell,"  he  said  to  them,  "but  I  will  tell  it  only  to  the  Lord  de 
Mendoza  himself." 

To  the  Lord  de  Mendoza  he  told  a  story  even  more  won- 
derful than  the  story  of  Tejos,  the  Indian,  or  that  of  Cabeza 
de  Vaca. 

"All  the  way,"  he  said,  "I  found  great  entertainment,  for 
after  I  told  the  Indians  they  were  not  to  be  enslaved,  they 
could  not  do  enough  to  show  their  love  for  me.  I  went 
where  the  Holy  Ghost  did  lead  me.  The  Indians  guided 
me  from  place  to  place,  and  some  went  ahead  to  tell  others 
that  I  was  coming.  Everywhere  they  came  to  meet  me  and 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         159 

gave  me  welcome.  They  had  food  ready  for  me ;  and  where 
there  were  no  houses,  they  built  bowers  of  trees  and  flowers 
that  I  might  rest  safe  from  the  sun. 

"  I  saw  naught  that  was  worthy  of  notice  until  there  came 
to  me  some  Indians  from  an  island  off  the  coast,  and  these 
wore  about  their  necks  great  shells  that  were  of  mother-of- 
pearl.  To  these  I  showed  the  pearls  which  I  carried  with 
me  for  show,  and  they  told  me  that  in  their  islands  there 
were  great  stores  of  such,  and  that  there  were  thirty  islands. 

"And  then  I  passed  through  a  desert  of  four  days'  journey, 
and  there  went  with  me  the  Indians  from  the  island  and 
from  the  mountains  I  had  passed.  At  the  end  of  this 
desert  I  found  other  Indians,  who  marveled  much  to  see  me, 
because  they  had  not  before  seen  a  white  man.  They  gave 
me  great  stores  of  food  and  sought  to  touch  my  garments, 
and  called  me  Hayota,  which  in  their  language  means  'A 
man  come  from  Heaven.' 

"As  best  I  could,  I  told  to  all  these  Indians  of  our  Lord 
God  in  Heaven,  and  of  our  great  Emperor  over  the  sea. 
Then  I  asked  them  if  they  knew  of  any  great  kingdom 
thereabout  or  of  any  great  cities. 

"And  they  told  me  that  farther  on  were  high  mountains, 
and  at  the  foot  of  those  mountains  was  a  large  and  mighty 
plain  on  which  were  many  great  towns  and  people  clad  in 
cotton.  Then  I  showed  them  metals  that  I  carried  with 
me  and  said  to  them,  '  Have  the  people  of  those  cities  any 
of  these?'  And  they  took  the  gold  metal  from  my  hand 
and  said :  '  Of  this  do  the  people  of  those  cities  make  the 
vessels  from  which  they  eat,  and  also  do  they  make  of  it 
thin  plates  to  scrape  the  sweat  from  their  bodies,  and  the 
walls  of  their  temples  are  covered  therewith.' 

"Then  I  asked  concerning  the  precious  stones  known  to 
the  people  of  the  cities,  and  the  Indians  answered  that  they 
had  round,  green  stones  that  they  prized  much  and  wore 
hanging  from  their  noses  and  ears. 


160  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"  The  Indians  offered  to  take  me  to  the  cities,  but  because 
it  was  a  long  journey  from  the  sea,  and  your  lordship  had 
commanded  me  to  keep  close  to  the  coast,  I  did  not  go. 

"It  was  now  Passion  Sunday,  and  I  felt  inclined  to  tarry 
among  the  people  I  was  with.  I  did  so,  but  I  sent  on  ahead 
of  me  the  negro  Stephen. 

"I  told  him  to  go  to  the  northward  fifty  or  threescore 
leagues,  and  to  take  with  him  Indians,  of  whom  he  should 
send  back  from  time  to  time  messengers  bearing  me  news  of 
all  that  he  learned. 

"We  agreed  that  if  it  were  the  mean  country  of  which 
he  learned,  he  should  send  me  a  cross  no  longer  than  my  hand ; 
but  if  it  were  a  great  country,  he  should  send  me  a  cross 
the  length  of  two  hands ;  and  if  it  were  a  country  greater 
and  richer  than  New  Spain,  he  should  send  a  great  cross. 

"Stephen  went  from  me  on  Passion  Sunday,  after  dinner, 
and  within  four  days  there  came  to  me  messengers  bearing 
a  cross  as  high  as  a  man.  He  sent  me  also  word  that  I 
should  at  once  come  after  him,  for  he  had  news  of  a  mighty 
province;  that  he  had  with  him  certain  Indians  who  had 
been  to  that  province,  and  one  of  them  he  sent  to  me. 

"The  Indian  whom  Stephen  had  sent  told  me  it  was 
thirty  days'  journey  beyond  the  town  where  Stephen  was, 
to  the  first  city  of  the  province,  which  was  called  Cibola.  He 
said  there  were  seven  great  cities  in  this  province  all  under 
one  lord.  The  houses,  he  said,  were  made  of  stone  and 
the  smallest  of  them  were  of  two  lofts,  one  above  the  other ; 
and  the  house  of  the  lord  of  the  province  had  four  lofts  and 
was  wide  and  long.  He  said,  too,  that  the  gates  of  the 
finest  houses  were  cunningly  wrought  with  turquoises, 
whereof  they  had  plenty. 

"The  same  day  that  Stephen's  messenger  came  to  me 
there  came  also  another  Indian  from  the  seacoast,  and  he 
told  again  of  the  many  islands  in  the  sea  and  of  people  who 
have  many  pearls  and  much  gold. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         161 

"  And  that  same  day  there  came  to  me  three  Indians  with 
their  faces  and  breasts  and  arms  painted. 

"They  came,  they  said,  from  a  province  toward  the  east 
that  bordered  upon  that  of  the  Seven  Cities.  They  had 
heard  of  me  and  wished  to  see  me.  They  told  me  of  the 
Seven  Cities  of  Cibola,  the  people,  and  the  houses,  in  the 
same  manner  that  Stephen  had  sent  me  word.  I  sent  back 
the  Indians  who  had  come  from  the  islands  on  the  seacoast, 
and  hurried  on  after  Stephen. 

"Each  day  messengers  came  to  me  from  Stephen,  all 
carrying  large  crosses  and  all  telling  of  Cibola. 

"At  last  came  Indian  messengers  who  told  me  of  three 
other  kingdoms  called  Marata,  Acus,  and  Tonteac.  They 
said  that  the  people  of  those  provinces  dressed  even  as  the 
people  of  Cibola,  with  gowns  of  cotton  that  hang  to  their 
feet,  and  they  bound  them  with  girdles  of  turquoises.  And 
they  told  me  much  more,  to  make  me  know  that  these  prov- 
inces were  in  all  ways  as  great  as  Cibola. 

"I  traveled  on  for  days,  stopping  to  know  the  people 
among  whom  I  passed  and  always  being  received  by  them 
with  all  tenderness. 

"They  brought  me  their  sick  that  I  might  heal  them  and 
sought  always  to  touch  my  garments.  They  gave  to  me 
cowhides  so  well  tanned  that  I  could  not  well  believe  them 
to  have  been  dressed  by  savage  people. 

"As  I  went  on,  I  came  to  great  crosses  set  up  in  the 
ground  by  Stephen  to  let  me  know  that  the  good  news  of 
the  country  increased.  I  came  to  a  pleasant  town  at  last 
where  indeed  were  people  clad  in  cotton,  both  men  and 
women,  and  they  wore  turquoises  in  their  noses  and  ears. 
The  lord  of  the  village  came  with  his  brethren  to  greet  me, 
and  they  were  well  dressed  in  robes  of  cotton  and  hides  and 
wore  collars  of  turquoises  about  their  necks. 

"  It  was  a  fair  country,  better  than  any  I  had  yet  seen ; 
so  I  set  up  two  great  crosses  and  took  possession  of  it  for 


162  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

His  Majesty,  the  Emperor.  They  offered  me  gifts  of  all 
they  had,  but  I  took  not  one  thing  save  food. 

"I  came  now  to  a  desert  and  went  into  it,  and  I  found 
that  the  Indians  had  gone  on  ahead  of  me  and  built  bowers 
beneath  which  I  ate  and  slept,  and  in  this  manner  I  traveled 
for  four  days. 

"Then  I  entered  a  valley  where  were  many  people;  men 
and  women  came  to  meet  me  with  food.  All  of  them  had 
turquoises  hanging  from  their  noses  and  ears  and  collars  of 
turquoises  three  or  four  times  double  about  their  necks. 

"Here  they  knew  of  Cibola  as  much  as  we  in  New  Spain 
know  of  Mexico  and  could  answer  all  I  wished  to  ask  about 
the  people. 

"As  I  went  on  I  met  more  and  more  people,  and  passed 
through  a  fine  country  where  is  much  grass  and  water. 
The  people  were  in  all  ways  civil  and  kind  and  told  me  about 
Cibola  and  Acus,  and  Tonteac  and  Marata  and  Quivira. 
Here  I  saw  a  thousand  oxhides  all  nicely  dressed  and  chains 
of  turquoise,  and  they  told  me  they  all  came  from  Cibola. 

"And  now  I  had  two  deserts  to  cross  and  was  fifteen 
days'  journey  from  Cibola. 

"I  entered  the  desert,  and  many  Indians  went  with  me, 
and  others  went  on  ahead  to  make  ready  for  me ;  and  each 
day  there  came  word  from  Stephen,  telling  me  all  was  true 
and  to  hurry  after  him. 

"For  twelve  days  I  journeyed  thus,  and  then  there  came 
running  to  meet  us  an  Indian  in  great  fright  —  his  body 
covered  with  sweat  and  dust  and  his  face  showing  the  greatest 
sadness. 

"He  told  us  that  the  day  before,  Stephen  had  reached 
Cibola,  and  had  sent  messengers  into  the  city  with  presents 
for  its  lord,  and  to  let  him  know  they  came  in  peace. 

"But  the  lord  of  the  city  fell  into  a  great  rage,  and  dashed 
the  presents  of  Stephen  to  the  ground.  In  his  fury  he  drove 
the  messengers  out  of  the  city, 'and  told  them  that  if  they 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History         163 

again  appeared  they  would  surely  be  killed,  as  would  also 
Stephen,  if  he  dared  to  come  near. 

"The  messengers  hurried  to  Stephen  and  told  him  what 
had  happened,  but  he  was  in  no  wise  afraid ;  he  answered 
he  should  go,  nevertheless,  and  bade  the  Indians  fear  not, 
but  to  come  with  him. 

"They  went  on,  but  as  they  were  about  to  enter  the  city, 
many  of  its  people  met  them  and  seized  them  and  cast  them 
into  a  great  house  that  stood  just  outside.  They  took  from 
them  all  that  they  had,  and  left  them  all  night  without  food 
or  drink.  The  next  morning  Stephen  and  his  Indians  tried 
to  escape,  but  they  were  scarce  outside  their  prison  when 
the  people  of  the  city  set  upon  them,  and  Stephen  and  all 
the  Indians,  except  the  messenger  and  one  other,  were  killed. 
These  two  had  been  struck  down  and  left  for  dead,  but 
were  only  stunned.  They  had  lain  under  the  dead  bodies 
of  the  others  until  the  angry  people  had  gone  back  into  the 
city.  Then  they  had  crept  away. 

"My  Lord  de  Mendoza,  so  great  was  my  grief  at  this 
terrible  news  that  it  seemed  for  a  moment  I  must  indeed 
die,  but  when  I  saw  all  my  Indians  begin  to  weep  and  la- 
ment, I  knew  I  must  not  give  way. 

"I  straightway  gave  to  them  many  of  the  presents  I  had 
intended  for  the  people  of  Cibola,  and  then  I  resolved  that 
though  I  might  not  enter  the  city  I  would  still  look  upon  it, 
and  I  told  them  I  would  nevertheless  go  on.  They  begged 
me  not  to  go,  but  when  they  saw  I  was  firm  two  of  them 
agreed  to  go  with  me.  Se  we  left  the  others  to  await  our 
return  and  journeyed  forwards.  We  traveled  one  day,  and 
then  we  came  to  a  round  hill.  This  I  climbed,  and  on  look- 
ing down  saw  at  its  foot  the  city  of  Cibola.  It  was  a  fair 
city,  my  lord.  The  houses  were  as  the  Indians  told  me,  of 
two  and  three  and  four  stories  and  built  of  stone.  The 
people  were  somewhat  white  and  dressed  in  white  garments. 
Greatly  was  I  tempted  to  risk  my  life  and  go  thither,  but 


164  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

knowing  that  if  I  were  killed  all  knowledge  of  the  country 
would  be  lost,  I  gave  it  up  and  contented  myself  with  plant- 
ing a  cross  upon  the  hilltop  in  token  that  I  took  possession 
for  the  crown  of  Spain." 

"You  have  done  well,  Fray  Marcos,"  cried  Mendoza, 
"and  now  it  is  time  to  send  an  army." 

The  Disappointment  of  Coronach 

When  Mendoza  wanted  to  send  an  army,  the  first  person 
he  thought  of  was  a  brave  soldier  and  fine  nobleman  named 
Francisco  de  Coronado,  who  sat  by  his  side,  listening  eagerly. 

Coronado  knew  all  about  the  expedition  of  Nuno  de  Guz- 
man, and  had  heard  the  story  of  Cabeza  de  Vaca.  Also, 
he  had  talked  with  Mendoza  before  the  viceroy  had  sent 
Fray  Marcos  on  his  journey,  and  had  said  he  would  be  will- 
ing to  spend  a  fortune  in  fitting  out  an  army  to  take  the 
Seven  Cities. 

So  Mendoza  turned  to  Coronado  and  said:  "Is  it  still 
your  wish,  my  noble  friend,  to  lead  an  army  against  this 
kingdom  of  Cibola?" 

"It  is,"  said  Coronado. 

"Well,  then,  make  ready  at  once,  and  I  will  help  you  in 
every  way  that  I  can,"  said  the  viceroy. 

The  news  spread  rapidly,  and  again  all  New  Spain  was 
talking  of  the  Seven  Cities.  In  a  short  time  three  hundred 
Spaniards  and  eight  hundred  Indians  had  enlisted,  and  so 
many  gentlemen  of  noble  birth  had  offered  to  go  that  the 
viceroy  was  much  embarrassed  in  choosing  officers,  for  of 
course  he  must  take  the  noblest  gentlemen,  and  there  were 
too  many! 

A  fine  sight  they  were  —  those  cavaliers  of  Spain  —  in 
their  glittering  armor,  mounted  on  prancing  horses,  their 
lances  gleaming  in  the  sunlight  and  their  banners  flying. 
Out  of  Compostela  they  marched  in  the  gayest  spirits, 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History          165 

thinking  of  the  loads  of  gold  and  jewels  they  would  bring 
back  with  them. 

But  it  was  very  different  when  they  reached  the  desert 
and  the  mountains.  They  did  not  know  how  to  bear  the 
fatigue  of  such  a  journey,  nor  how  to  care  for  their  horses 
and  cattle  and  sheep.  The  animals  died  in  large  numbers, 
and  the  courage  of  the  soldiers  weakened  rapidly  as  they 
grew  weary. 

The  soldiers  had  come  with  the  thought  of  conquest,  so 
they  did  not  treat  the  Indians  they  met  so  kindly  as  Fray 
Marcos  had  done,  and  of  course  the  Indians  did  not  like 
them  very  well,  and  in  a  little  while  there  began  to  be  trouble. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  narrow  pass  in  the  mountains. 

"I  am  afraid  the  Indians  will  try  to  keep  us  from  pass- 
ing," said  Coronado  to  the  Master  of  the  Field.  "Go you 
with  a  company  of  soldiers  and  guard  that  pass  until  all 
the  army  come  up.  Then  we  will  go  through." 

The  Master  of  the  Field  took  his  company  and  stood  guard 
at  the  pass.  But  that  night,  while  all  but  the  sentries  were 
asleep,  the  Indians  crept  down  upon  them  and  the  sleeping 
camp  was  roused  by  a  shower  of  stones  and  arrows  and  the 
wild  yells  of  the  Indians. 

Now  the  men  had  lain  down  with  their  guns  beside  them ; 
so  they  were  ready,  and  they  sprang  up  and  began  fighting 
bravely.  For  a  while  the  battle  raged  hotly,  the  Spaniards 
firing  their  guns  and  the  Indians  replying  with  stones  and 
arrows.  But  when  the  Indians  saw  some  of  their  number 
falling  dead,  they  were  frightened  and  fled  away  in  the 
darkness,  and  the  Spaniards  held  the  pass. 

After  that  the  Spaniards  had  little  peace,  but  nevertheless 
Coronado  managed  to  keep  up  their  courage.  On  they  went, 
up  through  that  country  we  now  call  Arizona,  over  almost 
the  same  road  that  Fray  Marcos  had  traveled.  They  paused 
where  is  now  the  city  of  Tucson,  and  then  marching  north- 
eastward, crossed  the  Gila  River  and  moved  on  toward 


166  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Cibola.  At  last,  where  today  stands  the  town  of  Zuni, 
they  reached  the  first  city  of  the  kingdom  whose  fame  had 
so  long  filled  with  golden  dreams  the  minds  of  the  Spaniards. 
But  instead  of  the  great,  fine,  glittering  city  they  had  ex- 
pected they  saw  only  a  village  of  a  few  hundred  houses. 

The  hearts  of  the  Spaniards  sank  as  they  gazed  upon  it. 
Coronado  called  three  of  his  men  and  said  to  them,  "Go 
into  the  city  and  say  to  the  people  that  we  are  not  enemies, 
but  have  come  in  the  name  of  the  Emperor,  our  lord,  to 
defend  them  and  to  join  with  them  in  friendship." 

The  messengers  went  into  the  city  and  delivered  Coronado's 
message,  but  the  people  of  Cibola  received  it  with  scorn. 

"We  did  not  ask  you  to  come,"  they  replied,  "and  your 
lord  had  no  right  to  send  you.  This  is  our  land  and  we  can 
defend  it.  Go  back  to  your  lord  and  to  your  own  land,  for 
if  you  stay  here  you  shall  not  one  of  you  live." 

The  messengers  turned  to  go  back  to  Coronado,  and  even  as 
they  went  the  people  of  Cibola  began  firing  arrows  at  them. 

Coronado  got  his  men  quickly  together  and  gave  the 
command  to  attack.  The  people  of  Cibola  were  gathered 
upon  the  walls  of  their  city  and  rained  down  arrows  and 
stones  upon  the  Spaniards  as  they  came.  The  Spaniards 
were  many  of  them  so  weary  from  their  long  journey  that 
they  had  not  strength  enough  left  to  pull  a  crossbow.  In- 
deed, for  a  time  it  seemed  they  must  be  beaten,  so  fiercely 
did  the  Indians  battle  against  them.  The  glittering  armor 
of  Coronado  and  the  earnestness  with  which  he  cheered  on 
his  men,  told  the  Indians  that  he  was  the  leader  of  the 
Spaniards,  and  they  tried  particularly  to  kill  him.  Twice 
they  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and  once  he  must  surely  have 
been  killed  had  not  a  brave  knight  stood  across  his  body  and 
guarded  him  from  the  rain  of  stones  until  he  recovered.  He 
would  not  give  up.  Weak  from  the  blows  he  had  received, 
aching  in  every  part,  and  with  an  arrow  sticking  in  his  foot, 
he  led  the  last  charge,  shouting  "Santiago !"  as  he  rode. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  History          167 

"Santiago!"  echoed  his  soldiers  as  they  followed  him 
straight  into  the  town.  The  Indians  fled  as  the  Spaniards 
entered,  and  the  battle  was  over. 

The  Spaniards  almost  wept  with  rage  and  despair  as  they 
looked  about  them.  The  houses,  it  is  true,  were  made  of 
stone  and  were  large,  as  had  been  said,  but  there  were  no 
jeweled  gates,  no  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  no  fine  city,  no 
stores  of  wealth  to  carry  back  to  Spain. 

So  great  was  Coronado's  despair  that  he  fell  ill  almost 
unto  death.  He  could  not  bear  to  give  up.  It  seemed  he 
must  find  those  seven  wonderful  cities.  As  soon  as  he  was 
able  he  sent  out  parties  in  all  directions  to  see  what  could  be 
found. 

For  almost  two  years  they  searched.  Whenever  an  Indian 
told  them  a  new  tale,  they  started  off  at  once  to  see  if  it 
were  true.  They  heard  of  a  great  river  to  the  westward, 
and  Arellano,  one  of  the  brave  officers,  led  a  party  at  once 
in  search  of  it.  Across  the  dry,  hot  desert  of  Arizona  they 
went,  and  never  stopped  until  they  came  to  the  Grand 
Canon  of  the  Colorado.  Below  them  flowed  the  mighty 
river  between  walls  hundreds  of  feet  deep  and  so  steep  they 
could  not  descend  to  the  water,  though  they  were  almost 
dying  of  thirst  as  they  stood  over  it. 

Scarcely  had  they  got  back  before  the  army  was  again 
all  excitement  because  an  Indian  had  told  a  tale  of  a  great 
city  to  the  northeastward.  Coronado  himself  led  them  in 
search  of  it.  Up  they  went  through  New  Mexico,  traveling 
for  days  among  herds  of  buffaloes  that  reached  farther  than 
they  could  see. 

They  went  so  far  north  as  to  enter  that  part  of  our  coun- 
try now  called  Kansas.  They  found  in  reward  for  their 
long  journey  only  a  few  Indian  villages. 

At  last,  when  more  than  two  thirds  of  his  men  were  dead, 
Coronado  gave  up  and  marched  back  to  Mexico.  And  this 
was  the  last  search  for  the  Seven  Cities  that  were  not. 


CHAPTER  FIFTEEN 

STORY-TELLING  TO  INTENSIFY  INTEREST  IN 
GEOGRAPHY 

IN  the  study  of  geography  the  story  means  as  much 
as  in  history.  The  child  is  keenly  interested  in 
what  he  is  doing  and  in  what  those  around  him  are 
doing,  and  when  he  discovers  that  people  in  China, 
in  South  America,  in  Australia,  or  in  Russia  are  doing 
the  very  things  he  is  attempting  to  do  or  sees  done, 
that  they  are  engaged  in  industrial  occupation  very 
much  as  his  father  or  uncle  or  neighbor  is  engaged  in  it, 
that  distant  occupation  loses  its  remote  quality,  and 
the  country  with  which  it  is  associated  becomes  real 
and  near  to  him.  In  the  larger  sense  geography  is 
something  that  must  be  felt  and  imagined.  It  is  an 
interpretation  of  foreign  activities  and  the  regions  in 
which  they  take  place,  and  because  the  story  can  in- 
terpret these  activities,  because  it  can  make  situations 
real  and  familiar  instead  of  aloof,  it  is  of  inestimable 
value  in  teaching  the  subject.  Here  the  myth  and 
fairy  tale  can  be  used  with  excellent  results,  because 
through  them  the  child  sees  something  of  the  struggle 
of  man  in  his  effort  to  interpret  the  world  and  comes 
to  have  a  broader  sympathy  for  the  ideals  of  people 
of  other  regions.  Moreover,  in  many  instances  it 
tends  to  fix  definite  information  concerning  a  certain 
locality  and  to  invest  distant  regions  with  vivid  interest, 
for  to  the  boy  who  associates  the  Rhine  or  Danube 
or  Himalayas  with  the  tale  of  a  hero  or  people  who  once 
lived  and  did  brave  deeds  there,  those  rivers  and 
mountains  will  be  more  than  black  specks  on  a  map. 

168 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Geography        169 

If  he  hears  of  the  two  frogs  in  Japan  who  started  out 
to  see  the  world,  he  will  not  say  that  Kioto  is  somewhere 
in  South  America,  because  the  spot  has  been  fixed  in 
his  mind  by  a  story.  Because  it  is  associated  with 
something  he  has  enjoyed,  it  stays  there,  and  while 
the  highest  aim  of  the  study  of  geography  is  not  merely 
to  stuff  the  mind  with  facts,  but  to  broaden  the  horizon 
and  bring  the  world  within  the  child's  own  dooryard, 
the  acquisition  of  certain  information  tends  to  give 
him  that  broad  outlook  which  makes  all  people  seem 
creatures  of  his  world  and  all  activities  a  part  of  his 
own  experience.  Unfortunately,  however,  teachers 
sometimes  lose  sight  of  this  fact,  and  the  larger  aim  is 
made  subservient  to  a  memorizing  of  data. 

Geography  and  history  are  so  closely  related  that 
it  is  difficult  to  separate  them,  and  in  making  one  vivid 
we  must  draw  constantly  from  the  other.  The  field 
is  limitless.  In  fact,  there  are  so  many  stories  to  give 
the  geography  class  that  teachers  sometimes  say, 
"When  are  we  to  have  time  for  formal  recitations?" 

Too  much  recitation  and  not  enough  story  is  respon- 
sible for  the  fact  that  boys  and  girls  sometimes  give 
startling  information  about  the  location  of  places. 
Shorten  the  recitation  period,  if  necessary,  but  do 
not  fail  to  give  the  stories  that  bring  far-away  places 
as  near  as  one's  own  dooryard,  and  let  tests  and  ex- 
aminations prove  which  method  is  better.  We  must 
possess  before  we  can  give,  and  the  pupil  who  is  assigned 
a  number  of  pages  and  expected  to  recite  about  them 
often  fails  miserably,  because  interest,  which  must 
underlie  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  has  not  been 
aroused.  We  may  tell  him  to  study  the  course  of  the 


170  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Rhine  and  locate  the  cities  that  dot  its  banks,  and  one 
will  mean  no  more  to  him  than  the  other.  But  if  he 
hears  the  tale  of  the  building  of  the  king  of  German 
cathedrals  and  the  legend  of  the  architect's  compact 
with  the  Evil  One,  Cologne  will  have  an  individuality 
very  different  from  that  of  Coblenz  with  its  bridge  of 
boats.  If  he  listens  to  the  tale  of  Maui  fishing  up 
New  Zealand  from  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  of  the 
demigod  chieftain  who  was  the  discoverer  of  Hawaii 
and  the  patriarch  of  his  people,  there  will  pass  before 
his  eyes  at  the  mention  of  places  among  the  Pacific 
Islands  pictures  of  a  dark-skinned,  sea-loving  race 
with  a  history  fully  as  fascinating  as  that  of  his  own 
people. 

If  there  is  not  time  for  him  to  recite  it  all,  let  him 
write  about  it.  This  will  help  to  solve  the  composi- 
tion problem,  because  the  reason  for  much  of  the  miser- 
able written  English  work  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
child  has  nothing  to  give.  He  is  told  to  elaborate 
upon  a  subject  that  lies  far  from  his  interest,  one  of 
which  he  has  little  knowledge,  with  results  that  every 
English  teacher  knows.  But  if  he  has  been  interested 
in  it  by  a  story,  he  can  give  that  story  back  in  oral  or 
written  form,  even  though  the  construction  be  far  from 
perfect. 

Another  value  of  using  stories  with  a  geographical 
or  historical  background  is  that  they  develop  the 
child's  social  instinct  and  give  him  something  of  a 
realization  of  the  brotherhood  of  man.  Through 
hearing  and  reading  them  he  becomes  broader  and 
more  tolerant.  He  sees  that  in  every  part  of  the  world 
men  have  their  standards  and  ideals,  which,  although 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Geography         171 

they  may  be  greatly  at  variance  with  his  own,  are 
entitled  to  respect  because  they  represent  deep  con- 
victions and  desires.  Instead  of  viewing  the  world 
through  a  keyhole,  he  sees  it  across  unobstructed 
fields  and  comes  to  have  a  bigger  human  understanding. 
In  the  study  of  geography  there  is  a  finer  opportunity 
than  anywhere  else  in  elementary  education  to  divert 
the  child's  feet  from  a  narrow,  provincial  trail  into 
the  broad  highway  of  cosmopolitanism. 

As  in  the  study  of  history,  so  in  geography  the  story 
should  radiate  from  local  environment  to  other  sections 
of  the  world,  and  every  worker  with  girls  and  boys, 
whether  mother,  teacher,  or  librarian,  should  endeavor 
to  give  them  some  idea  of  the  story  of  their  own  lo- 
cality. The  child  should  know  something  of  the  legends 
of  the  people  who  built  their  camp  fires  on  the  spots 
that  are  his  public  parks  and  gardens,  and  teachers 
especially  should  aid  the  earnest  group  of  men  and 
women  that  is  patiently  collecting  and  preserving 
our  American  folklore,  by  giving  some  of  it  to  the 
children.  It  will  not  only  heighten  pride  in  their 
own  locality,  but  it  will  broaden  their  understanding 
of  other  lands  and  races  and  their  sympathy  with  the 
struggles  of  different  peoples.  This  kind  of  work  belongs 
to  the  field  of  history,  but  it  so  greatly  increases  interest 
in  geography  that  the  teacher  should  not  miss  the 
opportunity  of  using  this  material. 

There  are  legends  clustering  about  every  section 
of  our  country  that  the  people  of  that  locality  should 
know,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  the  average 
man  or  woman  has  seldom  heard  of  them.  Europeans 
are  inclined  to  say  we  are  a  people  of  no  traditions. 


172  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

While  the  charge  is  untrue,  and  our  land  is  rich  in  leg- 
endary lore,  it  is  true  that  only  a  small  percentage  of 
Americans  are  familiar  with  it.  One  reason  for  this 
general  ignorance  is  that  much  of  it  has  been  buried 
in  scientific  treatises,  which  are  unavailable  to  the 
layman.  But  within  the  last  few  years  a  large  amount 
has  been  put  within  reach  of  the  story-teller.  The 
unceasing  work  of  the  American  Folklore  Society  has 
resulted  in  unearthing  and  preserving  much  that 
would  otherwise  have  been  lost  and  that  is  important 
enough  to  have  a  place  in  our  schools.  Nothing  is 
more  fascinating  to  the  child  than  stories  of  his  own 
region,  and  our  young  people  ought  to  be  privileged 
to  share  in  that  joy  with  boys  and  girls  of  the  Old 
World. 

There  are  peasant  lads  in  France,  Italy,  and  other 
European  countries  who  can  entertain  by  the  hour  with 
tales  of  their  rivers  and  mountains  —  not  those  of  some 
distant  province,  but  the  peaks  that  tower  above  their 
native  village,  the  streams  along  which  they  trudge 
on  their  way  to  school.  California,  Washington,  and 
Oregon  children  should  be  given  legends  of  the  Yo- 
semite,  of  Lake  Tahoe,  of  Mount  Shasta,  of  the  Colum- 
bia River,  and  of  Mount  Rainier.  Boys  and  girls 
among  Southern  bayous  should  be  taught  the  tradi- 
tions of  their  region,  of  the  Indians  and  Creoles  who 
made  history  there  when  that  section  was  a  province 
of  France ;  while  along  Northern  lake  and  inland  river 
are  tales  of  forest  folk,  of  pathfinder  and  black-robed 
message  bringer,  of  knights  of  the  Old  World  come 
to  seek  fortune  in  the  New,  that  are  a  part  of  the 
heritage  of  every  youth  living  there.  Let  us  give  them 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Geography        173 

to  our  young  people,  that  they  may  love  their  home 
spots,  not  just  because  they  are  beautiful  and  are 
theirs,  but  as  the  French  child  loves  the  Rhone  or  the 
Austrian  the  Danube,  because  of  the  stories  that  tend 
to  make  them  enchanted  ground. 

In  using  the  story  in  geography  the  teacher's  work 
does  not  end  with  telling  the  story.  The  places  men- 
tioned in  it  should  be  located  on  the  map,  that  their 
exact  position  may  be  fixed  in  the  mind  of  the  child. 
Interest  in  the  story  will  make  this  a  pleasure  rather 
than  a  task  for  the  boy,  just  as  it  becomes  a  delight 
rather  than  a  hardship  for  him  to  follow  the  route 
taken  by  his  father  or  uncle  when  he  goes  on  a  journey, 
or  to  work  out  the  itinerary  of  a  trip  he  hopes  to  take 
himself.  One  small  boy  studied  the  geography  of  Vir- 
ginia with  keen  interest  after  reading  Lord  Cornwallis' 
Silver  Buckles,  and  more  than  one  man  and  woman 
attest  to  the  fact  that  some  book  read  and  loved  during 
their  school  days  did  more  to  fix  the  location  of  river, 
city,  and  mountain  in  their  minds  than  hours  of  class- 
room recitation  spent  in  bounding  states  and  countries 
and  tracing  the  courses  of  rivers. 

The  following  legend  of  Niagara  Falls  is  illustrative 
of  one  type  of  tale  that  will  greatly  add  to  the  child's 
interest  in  geography  by  investing  certain  localities 
with  story  associations.  Much  other  material  is  given 
in  the  appended  bibliography,  and  the  wide-awake 
teacher  will  be  able  to  glean  much  more  from  libraries 
and  adapt  it  to  her  work. 


174  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

THE  GOD  OF  THE  THUNDERING  WATER 
RETOLD  FROM  AN  IROQUOIS  LEGEND 

Before  the  white  man  sailed  westward  across  the  Atlantic, 
in  fact,  before  Columbus  was  born  or  anybody  even  dreamed 
about  a  short  route  to  the  Indies,  a  little  Indian  girl  lived 
on  the  shore  of  Niagara  not  so  very  far  above  the  cataract. 
She  was  a  happy  h'ttle  thing,  and  as  she  grew  to  maiden- 
hood she  became  the  fairest  girl  of  her  tribe,  and  her  father, 
who  was  a  mighty  chieftain,  promised  her  in  marriage  to  the 
iiiost  powerful  of  his  braves.  This  Indian  was  a  swift 
runner,  and  around  the  council  fire  not  another  tongue  was 
so  nimble  or  eloquent  as  his,  and  never  did  his  arrows  fail 
to  pierce  the  heart  of  the  deer  at  which  he  aimed  them. 
But  that  mattered  little  to  the  girl.  He  was  not  her  ideal 
of  a  husband,  and  she  could  think  of  nothing  more  dreadful 
than  becoming  the  mistress  of  his  wigwam.  Yet  her  father 
had  spoken  and  she  must  obey,  and  with  a  sad  heart  she 
made  ready  for  the  wedding,  weaving  the  handsomest  of 
wampum  belts  and  ornamenting  her  moccasins  with  gay 
beads  and  bits  of  woodpecker  feather. 

The  wedding  morning  dawned,  and  the  Indians  began  the 
games  and  merrymaking  that  always  marked  a  marriage. 
The  bridegroom  and  the  young  .braves  vied  in  races  and 
wrestling  matches,  and  the  women  too  had  a  part  in  the 
festivities,  singing  and  chanting  weird  songs  as  they  tended 
the  fire  and  roasted  venison  for  the  feast.  Everybody  was 
happy,  —  every  one  but  the  bride,  who  did  not  want  to 
marry,  and  who  sat  in  her  wigwam  looking  sadly  out  upon 
the  sport.  Suddenly  came  the  decision  that  she  would  not 
be  the  squaw  of  the  man  she  detested. 

Quickly,  softly,  she  crept  from  the  wigwam  and  hurried 
to  the  river  bank.  The  others  were  so  busy  with  their  merry- 
making that  they  did  not  see  her  go,  and  soon  she  came  to 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Geography        175 

where  her  canoe  was  moored  to  some  bushes.  She  stepped 
into  it,  pushed  it  from  shore,  and  began  drifting  down  the 
stream.  It  was  good  to  be  there  on  the  water,  for,  like  all 
Indian  girls,  she  loved  to  paddle,  and  in  her  joy  of  skimming 
along  with  the  current  she  began  to  sing. 

Suddenly  a  whoop  went  up  from  the  village  of  her  people. 
It  was  not  the  cry  of  those  victorious  in  a  game,  it  was  a 
shout  of  anger,  a  cry  of  alarm,  for  they  had  seen  her  and 
believed  she  was  trying  to  escape  from  the  marriage  every 
one  knew  was  distasteful  to  her.  The  bridegroom  started  in 
pursuit,  then  another  Indian  and  another,  until  every  man 
in  the  village  was  rushing  to  the  river  and  some  had  already 
begun  the  chase  in  canoes. 

"They  shall  not  take  me  back,"  the  girl  murmured. 
"I  will  not  go  back  to  the  village  and  become  Kunawa's 
squaw." 

With  swift,  powerful  strokes  she  paddled  down  the  stream. 
She  forgot  that  the  cataract  was  roaring  below  her,  forgot 
that  her  canoe  was  going  rapidly  and  surely  toward  the 
bright  foam  from  which  no  boat  could  come  back.  She 
thought  only  that  she  was  fleeing  from  a  wedding,  and  not 
until  she  saw  the  rapids  beneath  her  did  she  realize  her  fate. 
Then  she  began  her  death  song,  and  those  in  pursuit  heard 
it  for  a  moment,  loud,  clear,  and  plaintive  as  the  canoe  cut 
into  the  cataract,  then  suddenly  silenced  as  it  shot  down 
to  the  rapids.  Some  of  the  women  wailed  and  joined  in 
the  funeral  dirge,  and  some  of  the  others  cried  out  in  fear 
to  the  Great  Spirit. 

"It  is  the  last  of  Kunawa's  bride!"  they  exclaimed. 
"She  is  now  on  her  way  to  the  Spirit  Land." 

But  it  was  not  the  last  of  the  girl.  Far  down  in  the  mist 
of  the  cataract,  Heno,  the  Thunder  God,  had  seen  her.  He 
held  forth  his  arms,  and  as  the  canoe  dropped  to  the  rapids, 
she  went  into  them,  and  bearing  her  through  the  watery 
depths,  he  placed  her  in  a  cavern  behind  the  fall  where  he 


176  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

had  lived  since  the  beginning  of  things,  and  where  the  girl 
would  live  with  him  henceforth. 

Many  years  passed.  She  was  no  longer  a  young  maiden, 
but  a  tall,  sturdy  woman,  and  Heno  gave  her  to  one  of  his 
sons  to  be  his  squaw.  She  lived  there  in  happiness  with  him 
in  the  cavern  under  Niagara,  and  often  she  thought  of  her 
people  and  her  native  village  above  beside  the  river.  Be- 
cause she  remembered  and  loved  them,  Heno  was  kind  to 
them,  and  when  pestilence  came  to  the  region  he  lifted  her 
to  the  shore  that  she  might  tell  them  where  to  go  to  escape 
the  disease. 

Once  a  great  monster,  a  snake  all  green  and  white,  came 
trailing  his  body  through  the  forest  like  a  river  between 
hills,  and  made  straight  for  the  village  by  Niagara  to  feed 
upon  the  people  there.  But  through  the  Indian  girl  Heno 
had  told  them  of  the  coming  danger,  and  they  fled  before 
the  monster  so  fast  that  when  it  reached  the  village  it  found 
only  a  place  of  deserted  camps.  The  great  creature  hissed 
with  wrath,  but  Heno  saw  it  from  the  mists  and  struck  it 
dead  with  a  thunderbolt.  The  great  mass  rolled  to  the  river, 
floated  down  the  stream,  and  lodged  so  tight  above  the 
cataract  that  a  fold  in  its  body  sent  a  great  volume  of 
water  out  of  its  course,  forming  the  Horseshoe  Fall.  The 
flood  centered  there  destroyed  the  home  of  Heno  too,  but 
the  Thunder  God  arose  with  his  children  and  the  Indian 
girl,  and  ascending  to  the  heavens,  has  lived  there  ever 
since,  where  he  thunders  in  the  cloud  mists  as  he  once  did 
in  those  of  the  fall.  His  voice  is  so  mighty  that  the  echo 
of  it  is  always  sounding  above  Niagara,  and  although  white 
men  say  it  is  nothing  but  the  noise  of  falling  water,  the 
Indians  know  better.  They  know  it  is  the  song  of  the  god 
of  the  Thundering  Water. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Geography        177 
SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  TO  USE  IN  HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 

The  history  and  geography  references  have  been  combined  because 
each  of  the  books  listed  here  is  valuable  in  both  lines  of  work.  This 
plan  also  carries  out  the  Play  School  idea,  which  is  that  there  is  no  line 
of  demarcation  between  the  two  subjects. 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :    The  Discovery  of  the  Old  Northwest. 
BECQUER,  GUSTAVO  ADOLFO  :   Romantic  Legends  of  Spain. 
BRABOURNE,  LORD  (EDWARD  KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN)  :   River  Legends 

(London  and  England). 
CONVERSE,  HARRIET  CLARKE  :    Myths  and  Legends  of  New  York  Stale 

Iroquois. 
GRIFFIS,  WILLIAM  ELLIOT:    The  Unmannerly  Tiger  and  Other  Tales 

(Korean). 
GUERBER,  HELENS  A. :   The  Story  of  the  English;  Legends  of  the  Rhine; 

Legends  of  Switzerland. 

HARDY,  MARY  E. :  Indian  Legends  from  Geyser-land  (Yellowstone). 
HEARN,  LAFCADIO:  Kwaidan  (Japan). 
JANVIER,  THOMAS  A. :   Legends  of  the  City  of  Mexico. 
JOHONNOT,  JAMES  :    Ten  Great  Events  in  History. 
JUDSON,  KATHARINE  B. :    Myths  of  California  and  the  Old  Southwest; 

Myths  and  Legends  of  the  Great  Plains;    Myths  and  Legends  of 

Alaska;   Myths  and  Legends  of  the  Pacific  Northwest. 
LANG,  ANDREW  :    True  Story  Book. 

McMuRRY,  CHARLES  A. :   Pioneers  of  the  Mississippi  Valley. 
PERRY,  F.  M .,  and  BEEBE,  KATHERINE  :  Four  American  Pioneers. 
PITMAN,  LEILA  WEBSTER  :    Stories  of  Old  France. 
SKINNER,  CHARLES  M. :    American  Myths  and  Legends;    Myths  and 

Legends  beyond  Our  Borders  (Mexico  and  Peru). 
SMITH,  BERTHA  H. :   Yosemite  Legends. 
WARREN,  HENRY  PITT  (Ed.) :  Stories  from  English  History. 
WBSTERVELT,  H.  D. :  Legends  of  Old  Honolulu. 


CHAPTER  SIXTEEN 

STORY-TELLING  TO  INTENSIFY  INTEREST  IN  NATURE 

STUDY 

NATURE  study,  as  a  formal  subject  in  the  ele- 
mentary schools,  is  often  uninteresting  to  the 
child,  because  many  teachers  think  that  there  the 
bare  truth  should  prevail,  and  present  information 
concerning  the  sciences  as  a  series  of  dry,  emasculated 
facts.  The  result  is  indifference  toward  what  might 
be  a  keen  pleasure,  and  sometimes  even  distaste  for  it. 
But  if  the  nature  lesson  is  presented  in  a  manner  that 
brings  vivid  pictures  to  the  mind  of  the  child,  if  he 
is  given  some  vision  of  what  cannot  be  understood 
by  mere  description,  it  becomes  a  living  reality,  and  not 
only  fixes  information  that  is  the  foundation  for  scien- 
tific study  later,  but  enlarges  the  emotional  life  and 
quickens  the  imagination.  It  gives  him  a  feeling  of 
close  contact  with  nature  and  makes  him  so  responsive 
to  its  varied  life,  moods,  and  aspects,  that  he  comes  to 
love  it. 

Those  who  understand  nature  love  it  more  than  those 
who  do  not.  The  man  who  knows  the  elm,  the  beech, 
the  hemlock,  and  various  other  forest  brethren,  finds 
a  pleasure  in  the  woods  that  is  impossible  to  him  to 
whom  a  tree  is  just  a  tree.  The  latter  is  like  Peter 
Bell,  of  whom  Wordsworth  wrote : 

A  primrose  by  a  river's  brim 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him, 
And  it  was  nothing  more. 

He  goes  on  his  way  thinking  that  trees  are  good  for 
lumber,  to  produce  shade  and  break  the  force  of  winds 

178 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study     170 

that  might  otherwise  blight  his  crops,  but  he  has  little 
conception  of  how  they  affect  human  happiness  and 
human  life.  When  tired  and  nerve  worn,  he  does  not 
yearn  for  the  peace  of  the  redwoods,  but  for  some 
artificial  stimulus  in  a  city  distant  from  the  one  in 
which  he  has  his  cares.  Why?  Because  he  was  not 
born  with  a  love  of  nature  that  is  as  rare  as  genius, 
and  was  not  fortunate  enough  to  be  led  along  the  path 
on  which  it  is  acquired.  That  there  are  many  men 
and  women  of  this  type  is  proved  by  the  ruthless  way 
in  which  our  forests  have  been  destroyed,  by  the 
abuse  of  privileges  in  public  parks  and  gardens,  by 
the  way  in  which  trees  are  slaughtered  in  city  streets. 
It  is  certain  that  love  of  nature  is  not  born  with  every 
one,  and  that  what  is  the  fortunate  heritage  of  the 
few  must  be  instilled  into  the  many.  This  can  be  done, 
and  it  can  be  done  through  story-telling.  The  careless 
child,  the  unobservant  child,  to  whom  a  flower  is  just 
a  flower  or  a  bird  a  bunch  of  feathers,  can  be  led  to 
open  his  eyes  and  see  what  he  did  not  see  before, 
while  the  one  who  has  already  found  joy  in  the  life  of 
field  and  stream  will  respond  with  intense  pleasure 
because  a  new  and  roseate  light  is  flashed  upon  what  is 
already  familiar. 

Children  learn  to  love  nature  just  as  they  learn  to 
love  a  picture,  a  dog,  or  a  swimming  hole,  through 
experience  with  it  that  gives  joyous  results.  The 
country  lad,  whose  Saturdays  and  vacation  days  are 
associated  with  cowslips,  dragon  flies,  and  quiet  hours 
beside  a  trout  stream  casting  a  line  for  the  elusive 
catch,  is  not  likely  to  find  schoolroom  nature  study 
a  dull  subject,  because,  through  hours  of  enjoyment, 


180  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

he  is  equipped  with  an  emotional  and  imaginative 
background  that  gives  color  to  every  fact  presented. 
But  he  who  has  not  had  this  opportunity,  who  knows 
as  little  of  wild  life  as  a  cormorant  knows  of  the  Colorado 
crags,  will  not  respond  eagerly  to  a  series  of  facts, 
because  experience  has  not  previously  aroused  his 
imagination  concerning  them,  and  he  cannot  compre- 
hend their  mystery  and  wonder.  If  these  facts  are 
presented  through  the  medium  of  the  story,  if  they 
depict  the  life  of  the  open  as  vividly  as  some  painting 
that  meets  the  eye,  they  will  give  pleasure  and  furnish 
incentive  for  further  investigation.  They  will  not 
only  awaken  the  uninformed  child  to  a  realization  of 
the  wonders  and  delights  nature  holds  for  him,  but 
they  will  give  the  other,  more  fortunate  child  additional 
pleasure,  just  as  a  favorite  fairy  tale  does  when  told 
again  and  again  by  one  who  loves  it  and  can  make  its 
moods  his  own. 

This  does  not  mean  that  all  information  should  be 
presented  through  the  medium  of  the  story.  The 
story  should  be  used  only  to  give  such  information  as 
is  natural  to  the  story  form.  But  nature  study  can  be 
wonderfully  illuminated  by  the  story,  because  many 
of  the  truths  of  science  do  lend  themselves  to  plot, 
and  where  they  have  been  put  in  parallel  literary  form, 
they  are  as  replete  with  beauty  and  imagery  as  the 
fairy  tale,  and  afford  the  fancy  as  free  play  as  do  the 
adventures  of  sprites  and  goblins.  The  marvel  of  the 
brown  bulb  or  seed  metamorphosing  into  the  bril- 
liant-hued  blossom,  of  the  homely  caterpillar  evolving 
into  a  bit  of  flying  color,  of  the  majestic  movements 
of  stars  and  planets  through  worlds  remote  but  as 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study     181 

exquisitely  constructed  as  our  own,  fascinates  the  child 
and  furnishes  wide,  untrammeled  avenues  along  which 
his  imagination  may  roam.  There  is  almost  no  branch 
of  science  that  is  not  rich  in  material  for  the  story-teller. 
Dr.  Carrel,  the  great  French  specialist,  once  said  that 
some  day  an  artist  will  arise  who  will  weave  the  facts 
concerning  the  circulation  of  the  blood  into  a  tale  as 
fascinating  as  any  conte  from  the  Arabian  Nights. 

It  is  not  likely  that  physiology  will  ever  be  the  nucleus 
of  stories  to  give  to  children  in  the  early  years  of  school 
life,  but  Dr.  Carrel's  words  hold  a  valuable  hint  for  the 
narrator,  who  should  not  fail  to  draw  from  truth  as 
freely  as  he  draws  from  myth  and  fable.  An  overdose 
of  one  kind  of  food,  no  matter  how  wholesome,  dis- 
arranges the  digestive  apparatus,  and  an  overdose  of 
one  kind  of  literature  makes  a  one-sided  man.  There 
are  some  facts  to  show  that  a  too  free  feeding  on  fairy 
tales  has  led  to  crooked  thinking  and  susceptibility 
to  superstition,  and  the  story-teller  should  balance 
his  work  in  improbable  tales  with  those  of  fact  that 
fire  the  imagination  because  of  the  marvels  related  in 
them. 

This  is  not  so  difficult  as  it  may  seem,  for  many 
of  the  truths  of  science  have  been  put  into  simple 
language  by  men  who  were  poet  enough  to  bring  to 
children  something  of  their  mystery  and  beauty,  and 
there  is  no  dearth  of  books  that  can  be  used  with 
gratifying  results  by  workers  among  children  as  young 
as  those  of  six  to  nine  years.  Part  of  the  story  of 
evolution  is  enjoyed  in  this  period.  The  boy  in  the 
age  of  fancy  is  fascinated  by  listening  to  an  account 
of  early  man's  struggle  with  nature,  and  tales  of  the 


182  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

tree  dwellers,  of  cave  and  cliff  dwellers,  of  the  discovery 
of  fire  and  the  adventures  of  the  first  wanderers,  mean 
as  much  to  him  as  any  fairy  tale,  because  they  have 
the  very  characteristic  that  makes  the  fairy  tale  delight- 
ful —  an  element  of  mystery  that  permits  the  fancy 
to  roam  unchecked. 

Older  children  revel  in  the  truths  of  science,  if  they 
are  presented  in  story  form.  Take,  for  instance,  David 
Starr  Jordan's  "Story  of  a  Stone."  Where  is  there  a 
fairy  tale  more  fascinating  than  this  narrative  of  "a 
bit  of  petrified  honeycomb,"  plowed  up  by  a  Wisconsin 
husbandman  as  he  made  ready  to  sow  his  winter  wheat  ? 
The  style  and  language  have  the  charm  of  Andersen, 
the  plot  is  as  well  sustained  as  that  of  any  Thuringian 
folk  tale  collected  by  Grimm,  and  it  begins  as  fairy 
tales  have  begun  since  the  beginning  of  time : 

Once  upon  a  time,  a  great  many  years  ago,  so  many, 
many  years  that  one  grows  very  tired  in  trying  to  think 
how  long  ago  it  was ;  in  those  old  days  when  the  great  North- 
west consisted  of  a  few  ragged  and  treeless  hills,  full  of 
copper  and  quartz  and  bordered  by  a  dreary  waste  of  sand 
flats,  over  which  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  rolled  its  warm  and 
turbid  waters  as  far  north  as  Escanaba  and  Eau  Claire ;  in 
the  days  when  Marquette  harbor  opened  out  toward  Baffin's 
Bay,  and  the  northern  ocean  washed  the  crest  of  Mount 
Washington  and  wrote  its  name  on  the  pictured  rocks ; 
when  the  tide  of  the  Pacific,  hemmed  in  by  no  snow-capped 
Sierras,  came  rushing  through  the  Golden  Gate  between  the 
Ozarks  and  the  northern  peninsula  of  Michigan,  swept  over 
Plymouth  Rock,  and  surged  up  against  Bunker  Hill ;  in  the 
days  when  it  would  have  been  fun  to  study  geography, 
because  there  were  no  capitals,  nor  any  products,  and  all 
the  towns  were  seaports,  —  in  fact,  an  immensely  long 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study     188 

time  ago,  there  lived  somewhere  in  the  northeastern  part  of 
Wisconsin  a  little  jellyfish. 

Dr.  Jordan  has  also  woven  into  story  form  informa- 
tion concerning  the  animal  life  of  sea  and  stream,  of 
a  mother  and  baby  seal,  in  the  delightful  tale  of  "  Matka 
and  Kotik,"  and  there  is  not  a  boy  or  a  girl  in  the  heroic 
period  who  does  not  listen  eagerly  to  the  adventures  of 
a  salmon,  "a  curious  little  fellow,  not  half  an  inch  long, 
with  great,  staring  eyes  which  made  almost  half  his 
length,  and  with  a  body  so  transparent  that  he  could 
not  cast  a  shadow."  The  account  of  the  battle  of  the 
fish  there  under  the  ripples  of  the  Cowlitz,  the  beginning 
of  the  eventful  journey  down  the  river,  the  merry 
conflict  with  the  herring  and  the  terrible  one  with  the 
sea  lions,  swimming  always  and  always,  growing  larger 
and  more  daring,  and  having  in  his  watery  realm  as 
many  adventures  as  bold  Robin  had  in  his  greenwood, 
hold  the  children  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the 
story.  They  sympathize  as  he  struggles  up  the  stream 
again,  "growing  poor  and  ragged  and  tired,"  and 
through  his  life  and  adventures  they  come  to  have  an 
interest  in  the  world  of  fishes  that  they  will  not  have 
without  the  tale.  Such  stories  demonstrate  the  fact 
that  information  concerning  the  sciences  can  be  put 
into  fascinating  story  form,  and  every  worker  with 
young  folk  should  endeavor  to  present  some  of  it 
through  this  delightful  medium. 

The  child  will  find  such  tales  far  more  appealing  than 
the  so-called  nature  stories  in  which  animals  are  over- 
personified  and  in  which  they  meet  man  in  situations 
that  every  intelligent  boy  or  girl  knows  are  impossible. 
A  lad  is  not  brought  into  harmony  with  nature  by  being 


184  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

given  yarns  that  caricature  nature,  and  many  of  the 
modern  nature  stories  do  this  very  thing.  Children 
know  that  a  wild  bear  does  not  walk  into  a  little  girl's 
flower  garden,  and  then  politely  say  "I  am  sorry" 
and  back  out  because  the  small  mistress  of  the  garden 
is  kind  and  instead  of  throwing  stones  at  him  explains 
in  elegant  English  that  it  is  rude  to  go  into  another's 
property  unbidden.  They  know  that  animals  and 
children  do  not  converse  together  in  the  same  language, 
and  that  bears  do  not  have  courses  in  ethics.  The 
nature  story  that  fascinates  the  child  must  be  true  to 
nature's  laws.  He  may  listen  to  some  of  the  sugary, 
impossible  yarns  written  to  point  a  moral,  but  they  do 
not  give  him  keen  pleasure,  and  because  they  are 
ridiculous  in  his  eyes,  he  draws  no  lesson  from  them. 
One  of  the  aims  of  story-telling  is  to  give  ethical  in- 
struction, but  there  is  a  wealth  of  tales  that  reflect 
nature  and  life  correctly  that  should  be  used  for  this 
purpose,  and  the  facts  of  science  should  not  be  dis- 
torted in  an  attempt  to  emphasize  a  lesson. 

Tales  pervaded  by  over-sentimentalism  will  not 
stir  deep  response  in  children.  This  is  why  the  nature 
story  that  is  true  to  the  facts  of  science  is  the  one  that 
interests  the  boy  or  girl.  It  is  like  the  racial  tale, 
full  of  conflict,  of  temporary  defeat  and  final  triumph. 
The  young  salmon  grown  old,  struggling  up  Snake 
River  to  the  foot  of  the  Bitter  Root  Mountains,  was 
sore  of  muscle  and  unsightly  of  skin,  and  his  tail  was 
frayed  and  torn,  but  the  desire  of  his  nature  was  ful- 
filled at  last.  He  scooped  out  a  nest  and  covered 
the  eggs  of  his  companion,  and  then,  because  the  work 
of  his  life  was  done,  was  free  to  drift  downstream. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study       185 

Such  stories  give  insight  into  nature  and  engender 
a  love  of  nature ;  and  besides  quickening  the  imagina- 
tion and  enriching  the  emotional  life,  they  help  to  give 
stability  to  the  child  character,  because  through  them 
he  learns  the  workings  of  certain  inexorable  laws. 

There  is  such  a  vast  amount  of  material  to  use  in 
teaching  nature  study,  that  the  suggestions  and  bibli- 
ography given  in  this  chapter  can  by  no  means  be 
comprehensive.  In  the  realm  of  geology  there  is  the 
story  of  limestone,  of  slate,  of  quartz  and  granite,  of 
rock  salt  and  sandstone,  and  particularly  interesting 
to  the  child  is  the  story  of  coal.  For  him  it  abounds 
in  color,  and  beautiful  indeed  are  the  pictures  that 
he  sees  as  he  listens  to  this  narrative  of  the  carbon- 
iferous forests  that  grew  in  the  beginning  of  time,  of 
the  lush,  dank  swamps  of  the  Permian  or  Triassic  or 
Miocene  Period,  and  the  strange  animal  life  that  peopled 
them.  From  astronomy  and  botany  one  may  glean 
as  much  as  from  geology,  while  entomology,  zoology, 
and  ichthyology  hold  untold  delights  for  the  child. 

A  wonderful  science  story  is  that  of  the  coral  polyp, 
building  from  some  submerged  cliff  or  crag  until  a  little 
island  rises  above  the  blue  water.  In  my  own  child- 
hood it  meant  as  much  as  ever  a  fairy  tale  meant,  and 
I  can  still  feel  the  pleasure  I  experienced  the  first  time  I 
heard  it.  It  is  full  of  mystery  and  wonder,  and  a  story 
of  rare  beauty  for  the  child.  I  have  used  it  often  in 
story-telling,  and  it  never  fails  to  bring  enthusiastic 
response;  and  very  popular  with  the  children  is  this 
song  of  the  insect  builders,  of  which  I  do  not  know 
the  authorship,  but  which  is  one  of  the  fragrant  mem- 
ories of  my  childhood : 


180  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Far  down  in  the  depths  of  the  deep  blue  sea, 
An  insect  train  works  ceaselessly ; 
Moment  by  moment  and  day  by  day, 
Never  stopping  to  rest  or  play, 
Rock  upon  rock  they  are  rearing  high, 
Till  the  top  looks  out  on  the  sunny  sky : 
The  gentle  winds  and  the  balmy  air 
Little  by  little  bring  verdure  there, 
Till  the  summer  sunbeams  gayly  smile 
On  the  birds  and  flowers  of  the  little  isle. 

Older  children  enjoy  hearing  about  the  different 
forms  of  coral,  of  the  characteristics  of  that  of  the 
Mediterranean  Sea  and  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  of  the 
Caribbean  Sea  and  the  Atlantic.  They  enjoy,  too, 
hearing  about  the  coral  industry,  of  the  fishing  for  it 
along  the  shores  of  Africa,  of  the  departure  of  the 
seekers  from  Sicily,  of  the  Feast  of  the  Coral  Fishers 
that  is  such  a  picturesque  feature  of  the  island  life,  of 
the  polishing  and  carving  and  preparing  the  product 
for  trade;  they  like  the  legend  the  southern  Italians 
tell  of  how  the  first  medallion  in  Sicily  was  made  as 
an  offering  of  gratitude  by  a  fisher  lad  to  the  young 
Princess  of  Naples.  From  beginning  to  end  the  coral 
story  is  a  narrative  that  charms  the  child,  and  it  is 
but  one  of  the  forms  of  sea  life,  which  holds  rich  oppor- 
tunities for  the  narrator,  while  sea  life  is  but  one  of 
the  fields  of  science  from  which  he  can  glean  with  splen- 
did results.  In  fact,  the  possibilities  for  story  work 
in  the  teaching  of  science  are  almost  beyond  imagining 
until  one  begins  to  survey  the  field  and  enumerate 
sources  of  material,  and  the  story-teller  will  be  re- 
stricted in  it  only  by  her  ability  to  organize  material 
and  present  it  to  the  children  in  story  form. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study     187 

Sometimes  writers,  thinking  they  will  make  nature 
stories  more  enjoyable  to  boys  and  girls,  people  them 
with  supernatural  folk  who  are  supposed  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  marvels  that  occur  in  them.  It  is 
a  practice  that  scientists  decry,  and  it  is  condemned  by 
all  who  believe  that  a  story  fit  to  give  to  children 
must  be  worthy  of  the  name  of  literature,  and  con- 
sequently, whether  fact  or  fiction,  must  be  true  in 
spirit.  The  tale  that  portrays  a  fairy  up  in  the  sky 
keeping  the  planets  in  motion  like  so  many  checkers 
on  a  board,  or  one  in  which  enchanted  creatures  bury 
their  beads  in  the  ground,  causing  them  to  send  up 
roses  and  lilies  and  other  beautiful  blossoms,  is  not  a 
nature  story.  It  may  be  a  charming  fanciful  tale, 
but  it  should  not  be  given  to  teach  the  truths  of 
science.  Science  stories,  like  Bible  stories,  need  no 
sugar  coating  to  make  them  attractive.  When  given 
as  stories,  and  not  as  a  string  of  facts,  they  are  full  of 
suspense,  and  accounts  of  actual  happenings  in  star 
land,  under  the  waves,  or  deep  in  the  earth  are  as 
fascinating  to  the  child  as  the  fancied  ones  of  nature's 
forces  were  to  primitive  man  in  the  forest,  when  he 
crept  close  to  the  tribal  story-teller  and  in  big-eyed, 
wondering  awe  sought  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  great 
globule  that  gleamed  in  the  sky  by  day  and  the  number- 
less tiny  ones  that  gleamed  there  by  night.  The  prim- 
itive animal  tale,  which  gives  early  man's  belief  as  to 
how  certain  creatures  came  by  their  characteristics, 
is  very  interesting  to  the  child,  and  while  in  a  broader 
sense  it  belongs  to  the  field  of  geography,  my  own 
experience  has  been  that  if  told  in  connection  with 
animals  or  flowers  studied,  it  is  received  with  enthu- 


188  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

siasm  by  boys  and  girls.  But  the  child  should  under- 
stand that  these  narratives  are  primitive  man's  con- 
ception, and  that  the  science  stories  are  the  real  "  why  " 
and  "how"  stories. 

THE  WONDERFUL  BUILDERS 

Out  in  the  heart  of  the  Pacific,  far  out  where  the  blue 
waves  roll  their  shining  masses  between  Samoa  and  the  Aus- 
tralian mainland,  where  the  brown-skinned  islanders  and  the 
white-winged  sea  birds  seem  always  happy,  a  little  animal 
floated  around  one  day,  floated  from  among  the  shoals  of 
Tutuila  toward  the  open  sea.  It  was  a  tiny  creature,  and 
as  curious  as  it  was  tiny,  for  it  looked  more  like  a  spot  of 
clear  jelly  than  anything  else,  and  its  name  was  Polyp. 

Quite  lazily  it  floated  about  in  the  water,  now  under  a 
stretch  of  seaweed,  all  purple  and  opalescent  like  ropes  of 
wonderful  colors,  now  through  the  clear,  bright  current 
past  the  gaping  mouth  of  a  shark.  But  the  shark,  although 
always  on  the  watch  for  something  to  devour,  did  not  get 
the  little  polyp,  and  soon  it  came  to  a  submerged  rock  deep 
under  the  waves.  This  seemed  a  very  good  resting  place, 
and  there  the  polyp  stayed. 

Days  passed,  weeks  lengthened  into  months,  and  still 
the  polyp  kept  to  its  place  on  the  under-sea  rock.  But  it 
was  not  drowsing  and  sleeping  like  a  lazy  creature.  It  was 
busily  at  work,  for  the  very  minute  it  landed  on  the  rock 
it  decided  to  make  a  house. 

Now  you  must  not  think  that  it  could  not  work,  because, 
although  it  did  look  like  a  drop  of  jelly  and  was  small  and 
curious,  it  was  alive.  It  had  arms,  very,  very  tiny  arms, 
finer  than  the  finest  silk  thread  in  your  mother's  workbasket, 
and  so  thin  and  delicate  looking  that  nobody  could  see  them. 
But  those  arms  were  stronger  than  they  looked,  and  with 
them  it  held  on  to  the  rock  tight  and  fast. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study      189 

Then,  what  a  queer  house-making!  The  little,  jellylike 
body  began  to  swell.  It  raised  itself  up  in  the  shape  of  a 
tube,  and  around  the  edge  of  the  tube  came  a  little  rim. 
This  rim  was  the  beginning  of  the  house  of  the  polyp. 

The  waves  rolled  on.  The  sun  beat  down  brightly  and 
hotly  as  it  always  beats  down  in  the  South  Sea  country, 
and  then  came  another  change.  A  knot  rose  in  the  middle 
of  the  jelly,  and  out  of  that  knot  reached  a  mouth  and  feelers. 

Now  the  work  began  in  earnest.  The  polyp  began  to  eat, 
to  eat  as  greedily  as  a  boy  who  has  had  not  a  bit  for  a  whole 
day.  It  took  in  chalk  and  phosphorus  from  the  sea  food 
that  came  its  way,  yet  it  seemed  never  to  get  enough,  and 
all  the  while  the  h'ttle  feelers  kept  reaching  out  for  more 
food  and  pouring  it  into  the  open  mouth.  As  it  ate,  the 
chalk  it  took  in  piled  around  the  little  rim,  which  I  told  you 
was  the  beginning  of  the  house,  and  although  the  polyp 
wanted  much  to  hold  some  of  that  nice  chalk  food  in  its  mouth 
long  enough  to  get  the  full  taste,  it  could  not.  The  white 
substance  went  right  down  and  piled  up  on  the  rim ;  so  it 
is  no  wonder  that  the  h'ttle  creature  was  always  hungry. 

Well,  it  ate  and  it  ate.  The  rim  kept  growing  and  growing, 
as  of  course  it  must  with  so  much  chalk  piling  up  on  it, 
and  as  the  house  grew  higher  and  higher  the  polyp  kept 
moving  to  the  top.  The  part  below  was  hard  and  white 
like  stone,  and  still  the  polyp  kept  eating,  eating,  and  build- 
ing, building. 

For  a  long  time  it  kept  on,  until  finally  it  died.  Then 
one  day  another  drop  of  living  jelly  floated  that  way,  and 
finding  the  chalk  house  of  the  other  polyp,  stopped  there  and 
began  building  on  top  of  it.  The  waves  rolled  on.  The 
sun  shone,  and  all  the  while  the  house  went  steadily  higher. 
Other  polyps  too  came  and  began  building  beside  and  above 
it,  and  as  they  died  they  left  their  hard,  white  homes  behind 
them  as  the  first  polyp  had  done.  Others  and  still  others 
came,  until,  as  many,  many  years  passed,  the  chalk  houses 


190  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

reached  the  top  of  the  water  and  men  called  them  an 
island. 

The  waves  rolled  by.  Seaweed  drifted  that  way  and 
lodged  itself  on  the  chalk  reefs.  It  decayed  and  turned  to 
soil.  Sometimes  the  water  and  sometimes  the  wind  brought 
bits  of  plant  and  seed  from  some  other  older  islands,  until 
at  last  there  were  flowers  and  trees  and  birds  singing  in  the 
branches. 

Now  the  ships  of  the  world  sail  by,  going  toward  China 
or  Australia  or  to  the  American  shores  far,  far  away, 
and  sometimes  they  stop  at  the  little  island,  and  sometimes 
those  on  board  rest  there  among  the  palms  and  think  it  so 
delightful  a  land  that  they  wish  they  never  had  to  go  away, 
but  might  stay  there  always  and  always.  Yet  but  for  a 
wee,  curious  sea  creature  that  island  would  not  be,  for  it 
had  its  beginning  in  a  tiny  animal,  more  like  a  drop  of 
jelly  than  anything  else,  that  floated  one  day  between  Samoa 
and  the  Australian  mainland,  and  made  its  house  upon  a 
bit  of  submerged  rock. 


Story-Telling  and  Interest  in  Nature  Study     191 
SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  FOR  SCIENCE  STORIES 

BEARD,  JAMES  CARTER  :  Humor  in  Animals. 

BERGEN,  FANNY  DICKERSON  :    Plant  Work. 

BURROUGHS,  JOHN  :  Squirrels  and  Other  Fur-bearers. 

COLLINS,  ARCHIE  FREDERICK  :    The  Book  of  Stars. 

COMSTOCK,  JOHN  HENRY  :  Insect  Life. 

Du  CHAILLU,  PAUL  B. :    The  World  of  the  Great  Forest. 

FAHRE,  HENRI:    Insect  Adventures;    The  Life  of  a  Fly;    The  Hunting 

Wasps;    The  Mason  Bees;    The  Life  of  a  Caterpillar. 
FHYE,  ALEXIS  EVERETT  :  Brooks  and  Brook  Basins. 
GRINNELL,  JOSEPH  and  ELIZABETH  :  Birds  of  Song  and  Story. 
GRINNELL,  MORTON  :   Neighbors  of  Field,  Wood,  and  Stream. 
GROOS,  KARL  :    The  Play  of  Animals. 

HAWKES,  CLARENCE  :  Shovelhorns :   The  Biography  of  a  Moose. 
HOLDER,  CHARLES  F. :  Stories  of  Animal  Life. 
INGERSOLL,  ERNEST  :   Wild  Life  of  Orchard  and  Field. 
JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :  Science  Sketches. 
LEA,  JOHN  :   The  Romance  of  Bird  Life. 
MILES,  ALFRED  H. :  Animal  Anecdotes. 
MILLER,  ELLEN  R. :  Butterfly  and  Moth  Book. 
MORLEY,  MARGARET  W. :  Butterflies  and  Bees. 
PORTER,  GENE  STRATTON  :  Moths  of  the  Limberhst. 
PORTER,  JERMAIN  G. :  Stars  in  Song  and  Legend. 
ROBERTS,  CHARLES  G.  D. :  Earth's  Enigmas;  Haunters  of  the  Silences; 

Kindred  of  the  Wild;  Kings  in  Exile. 
THOMPSON,  JEANETTE  MAY  :     Water    Wonders    Every    Child    Should 

Know. 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

STORY-TELLING  IN  DOMESTIC  SCIENCE  AND  MANUAL 

TRAINING 

PEOPLE  are  likely  to  smile  when  a  story-telling 
enthusiast  suggests  that  his  art  will  intensify  the 
interest  in  manual  training  and  domestic  science,  but 
a  little  investigation  usually  convinces  them  that  this 
contention  is  not  merely  a  wild  theory.  Cooking  and 
sewing  and  wood,  metal,  and  leather  working  each  has 
an  interesting  story,  and  through  understanding  how 
these  crafts  originated  and  how  they  have  developed 
with  the  progress  of  the  race,  he  comes  to  have  an 
appreciation  of  their  true  dignity  and  value.  In  a 
broad  sense  these  tales  belong  to  the  field  of  history 
and  geography,  for  domestic  science  and  manual  train- 
ing have  a  background  in  history  and  present-day 
geography.  But  since  the  school  gives  them  as  sepa- 
rate subjects,  a  consideration  of  story  materials  touch- 
ing them  will  be  valuable  to  teachers  of  these  subjects. 
It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  first  roast  meat  of  primitive 
man,  discovered  by  accident  to  be  more  delectable 
than  that  untouched  by  heat,  to  the  banquet  of  the 
twentieth-century  gourmet,  but  they  are  chapters  of 
the  same  tale,  each  intervening  portion  of  which  is 
interesting.  There  seems  to  be  no  relation  between  the 
grass  skirt  of  the  prehistoric  belle  and  the  creations  of 
Worth  or  Paquin,  but  they  are  links  in  the  same  chain, 
beads  strung  upon  the  same  thread,  as  are  the  rush 
mats  of  the  cave  woman  and  the  rugs  of  Teheran. 
There  are  dozens  of  stories  to  give  to  girls  that  will 
increase  their  interest  and  delight  in  household  crafts. 

192 


Domestic  Science  and  Manual  Training       193 

Tales  of  the  lace  makers  of  Italy  and  Spain,  of  medieval 
tapestry  weavers,  of  dower  chests  of  European  peasant 
maids,  the  contents  of  which  pass  from  generation  to 
generation,  of  royal  costumers  and  court  tailors,  their 
problems,  patience,  and  artistry,  all  tend  to  give  a 
touch  of  romance  to  something  many  girls  are  inclined 
to  hold  in  contempt.  They  enjoy  hearing  about  cook- 
ery in  foreign  lands,  of  ways  of  serving  meals  that  are 
very  different  from  our  own,  and  no  one  is  more  amused 
by  Lamb's  "Dissertation  on  Roast  Pig"  than  she  who 
deals  with  problems  of  roasting  and  baking. 

Domestic-science  girls  who  are  told  something  of  the 
legends  clustering  around  various  foodstuffs  enjoy  the 
cooking  class  more  than  those  who  hear  nothing  but 
lectures  on  chemistry,  dietetics,  and  comparative  nu- 
tritive values,  and  they  take  more  pleasure  in  prepar- 
ing a  meal  because  they  know  stories  about  the  various 
dishes  that  comprise  that  meal. 

This  is  no  unproved  theory,  but  one  that  has  been 
tried  successfully  with  a  group  of  fourteen-year-old 
girls,  who  took  keener  delight  in  bread  making  after 
being  told  of  the  bakers  of  Nuremberg  and  who  brewed 
coffee  with  more  interest  when  they  knew  the  tale  of 
how  Arabians  discovered  the  use  of  coffee. 

There  are  stories  of  wood,  metal,  and  leather  workers 
that  should  be  given  to  every  boy,  not  only  because 
they  throw  new  light  upon  what  he  is  doing  and  add 
interest  to  it,  but  because  they  lead  him  to  respect 
those  who  toil  with  their  hands.  Stories  of  medieval 
carving,  of  house  building  in  different  lands  and  ages, 
now  of  the  brush  hut  of  the  Australian  aborigine,  now 
of  the  workmanship  in  the  palace  of  a  sultan  or  czar ; 


194  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

of  the  poet  craftsmen  of  Nuremberg,  of  the  pottery 
making  of  the  Aztecs,  of  the  building  of  Venice  upon 
piles  hewn  from  Tyrolean  forests,  these  and  dozens  of 
kindred  subjects  are  rich  in  materials  that  will  give 
children  pleasure  and  knowledge.  To  the  boy  or  girl 
who  loves  the  work  in  manual  training  and  domestic 
science  they  bring  additional  pleasure,  while  in  the  in- 
different they  awaken  interest ;  and,  moreover,  the 
snobbish  child  who  is  inclined  to  think  handcraft  be- 
neath his  respect,  will  be  led  to  see  that  the  carpenter 
who  strives  to  make  each  effort  more  worthy  than  the 
preceding  one,  or  the  housewife  who  puts  the  best  of 
herself  into  the  preparation  of  a  meal,  is  in  the  same 
class  with  Phidias  or  Shakespeare  in  earnestness  of 
purpose,  even  though  not  in  results,  and  is  as  deserving 
of  honor.  The  first  step  toward  success  with  these 
branches  is  to  dignify  them  in  the  eyes  of  children,  and 
nothing  accomplishes  this  as  effectually  and  rapidly  as 
the  story.  To  know  that  the  crafts  were  worthy  of 
the  best  efforts  of  those  of  other  times  and  lands  is  to 
make  them  feel  they  are  worthy  also  of  their  best 
effort. 

There  is  another  reason  why  these  stories  should  be 
told.  In  the  midst  of  the  agitation  in  favor  of  voca- 
tional training,  the  force  of  which  is  sweeping  away  and 
modifying  some  of  the  old  educational  standards,  there 
is  danger  that  in  catering  to  the  demand  for  the  prac- 
tical in  schools  we  neglect  that  which  conduces  to 
dreams  and  ideals. 

A  man  may  advance  beyond  the  ranks  of  a  journey- 
man joiner  and  make  a  good  living  if  he  has  no  thought 
beyond  the  work  of  each  day  as  it  dawns,  but  with- 


Domestic  Science  and  Manual  Training       195 

out  vision  he  cannot  become  the  master  builder,  and 
romance  is  the  corner  stone  upon  which  the  temple  of 
vision  stands.  The  palaces  of  old  Hellas  were  built  to 
strains  of  music,  for  the  beauty-loving  Greeks  knew 
that  melody  gave  men  lofty  thoughts,  and  believed 
work  performed  to  its  accompaniment  would  be  of 
higher  order  than  that  performed  without  it.  Bands 
were  hired  to  play  as  the  toilers  worked,  and  boys  who 
were  to  become  builders  were  inspired  to  emulate  the 
efforts  of  great  craftsmen  by  being  told  stories  of  their 
achievement.  In  our  day  we  cannot  expect  the  state 
to  provide  bands  and  symphony  orchestras  to  inspire 
toilers,  but  during  the  days  of  their  apprenticeship  we 
can  give  them  tales  that  will  have  a  tendency  to  glorify 
their  chosen  craft.  We  can  cause  them  to  feel  that 
only  the  best  efforts  of  hand  and  brain  are  fit  to  go  into 
this  craft,  because  it  is  a  monument  to  the  memory  of 
those  who  lived  and  died  in  its  ranks,  and  that  every 
worthy  effort  of  each  succeeding  toiler  helps  to  make 
that  monument  nobler  and  more  enduring. 

THE  DERVISH  OF  MOCHA 
RETOLD  FROM  AN  ARABIAN  FOLK  TALE 

The  dervish  Hadji  Omar  was  a  fortunate  man.  No  one 
of  his  day  was  so  well  versed  in  lore  of  the  ancients  and  in 
the  knowledge  of  his  own  time,  no  one  was  so  highly  esteemed 
by  his  people  or  so  loved  and  trusted  by  the  caliph.  At 
every  royal  banquet  he  sat  in  a  seat  of  honor,  and  whenever 
he  went  through  the  streets  of  Mocha  the  populace  shouted, 
"Hail,  Omar!" 

But  there  came  a  time  when  the  fortunes  of  the  dervish 


196  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

changed.  One  afternoon  as  he  sat  in  the  court  garden  he 
heard  a  conversation  that  dismayed  him.  Beyond  the  palm 
trees  that  screened  him  from  their  sight,  the  caliph  and  his 
council  were  planning  how  to  defraud  the  common  people 
and  enrich  themselves.  Hadji  Omar  listened,  grieved,  and 
that  night  went  to  his  friend,  told  what  he  had  heard,  and 
tried  to  dissuade  him  from  a  course  of  dishonor. 

Then  the  caliph  forgot  all  the  happy  hours  he  had  spent 
with  the  dervish,  forgot  that  he  had  loved  him  even  as  a 
brother,  and  remembered  only  that  the  dervish  was  trying 
to  interfere  in  his  plan.  He  flew  into  a  rage  and  declared 
that  Omar  should  be  exiled  from  Mocha,  and  that  a  price 
would  be  upon  his  head  should  he  ever  return.  Never  again 
should  he  sit  at  the  royal  banquet  table.  Never  again  should 
he  pass  through  the  streets  amid  cries  and  calls  of  endear- 
ment. He  should  live  in  the  wilds  h'ke  a  hunted  creature 
and  get  his  food  as  the  birds  of  the  field  get  theirs. 

So  out  from  the  city  that  he  loved  went  the  wise  and 
righteous  dervish.  He  took  the  camel  trail  into  the  desert, 
and  after  a  time  came  to  an  oasis  where  he  stayed.  A 
miserable  existence  he  had  there,  because  few  food  plants 
grew  in  the  spot.  Sometimes  a  caravan  came  by,  and  a 
merchant  or  camel  driver  pitied  him  and  gave  him  dates  or 
milk.  But  sometimes  he  had  nothing  to  eat,  and  always 
his  meals  were  so  scanty  that  he  grew  thin  and  weak  and 
haggard. 

One  day  —  he  had  been  a  long  time  without  food  and  was 
faint  from  hunger  —  he  found  some  berries  growing  on  a 
tree  beside  a  spring.  They  were  so  bitter  that  he  could 
not  eat  them ;  so  he  tried  the  experiment  of  roasting  them 
over  the  coals.  This  made  them  more  palatable,  but  still 
they  were  viciously  hard.  Hadji  Omar  was  so  hungry  that 
he  was  willing  to  do  any  amount  of  work  to  get  food ;  so  he 
boiled  the  berries,  hoping  they  would  soften.  Still  they 
were  hard,  but  he  managed  to  eat  a  few  of  them  and  drank 


Domestic  Science  and  Manual  Training       197 

of  the  water.  His  hunger  and  fatigue  seemed  gone,  and  he 
realized  he  had  made  a  great  discovery. 

Hastening  back  to  the  city,  he  told  the  guard  his  story 
and  was  allowed  to  go  into  the  presence  of  the  caliph.  There 
he  produced  some  of  the  roasted  berries,  which  were  boiled 
according  to  his  direction,  and  the  governor  and  council 
drank  of  the  water.  They  pronounced  it  a  kingly  beverage, 
and  the  decree  went  forth  that  Hadji  Omar  was  to  go  free. 

Thereafter  he  lived  with  the  caliph,  who  loved  and  trusted 
him  as  before  and  led  a  more  exemplary  life  because  of  the 
influence  of  the  goodly  dervish. 

Hadji  Omar  was  honored  during  his  remaining  years,  and 
after  his  death  was  revered  as  a  saint,  not  only  because  he 
was  wise  and  righteous,  but  because  he  discovered  to  Arabia 
the  beverage  of  the  coffee  berry. 

SOURCES  OF  MATERIAL  TO  USE  IN  DOMESTIC  SCIENCE  AND 

MANUAL  TRAINING 

CLINCH,  GEORGE  :   English  Costume  from  Prehistoric  Times  to  the  End 

of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

GOLDENBERG,  SAMUEL  L. :  Lace,  Its  Origin  and  History. 
KNIGHT,  JAMES  :  Food  and  Its  Functions. 
LOWES,  EMILY  LEIGH  :  Chats  on  Old  Lace  and  Needlework. 
MORSE,  FRANCES  CLARY  :  Furniture  of  the  Olden  Time. 
NORTON,  EDITH  ELIZA  :  Hugs  in  their  Native  Land. 
PLANCHE,  JAMES  ROBINSON  :  History  of  British  Costume. 
RANSOM,  CAROLINE  LOUISE  :  Studies  in  Ancient  Furniture. 
SINGLETON,  ESTHER  :  Furniture  of  Our  Forefathers. 
Stories  of  the  Ancient  World  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas  (Clothing). 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 
DOES  THE  WORK  OF  THE  STORY-TELLER  PAY? 

AND  now  arises  the  question,  Does  all  this  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  story-teller  pay  ?  Is  it  worth  the 
labor  required  for  the  domestic-science  supervisor,  the 
manual-arts  director,  the  music,  literature,  geography, 
or  history  teacher,  to  prepare  stories  that  touch  upon 
his  work?  That  question  can  best  be  answered  by 
estimating  results. 

As  stated  in  the  opening  chapter  of  Part  One,  story- 
telling can  simplify  the  entire  education  problem.  It 
will  create  noble  ideas  in  boys  and  girls  of  today  just 
as  it  created  ideals  and  established  standards  in  those 
of  the  past.  It  will  arouse  an  ambition  to  live  and  to 
achieve  so  that  they  may  be  worthy  of  the  emulation 
of  children  of  the  future  even  as  they  emulate  the 
heroes  of  days  gone  by.  In  no  other  way  can  such 
deep  desire  be  awakened  as  through  story  hearing  and 
reading.  In  no  other  way  do  children  realize  so  com- 
pletely the  truth  of  Longfellow's  words : 

Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 

And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

Yet  in  many  homes  story-telling  is  almost  unknown 
because  the  mother  does  not  deem  it  of  sufficient  value 
to  make  some  sacrifice  of  her  time  and  provide  for  it. 
She  does  not  know  that  the  story-telling  mothers  of 
the  past  have  been  those  whose  children  have  risen 
up  and  called  them  blessed;  that  the  confidence  of 

198 


Does  the  Work  of  the  Story-Teller  Pay?      199 

their  boys  and  girls,  won  around  the  fireside  as  old- 
time  tales  were  told,  has  been  held  unshaken  to  the 
end. 

The  force  that  in  the  long  ago  moved  men  to  great 
achievement  has  lost  none  of  its  power.  Twentieth- 
century  children  respond  to  stories  as  eagerly  as  did 
boys  and  girls  by  the  sea  of  Hellas  when  Greece  was 
young,  as  they  did  in  medieval  castle  hall  to  the 
strains  of  minnesinger  and  harper,  because  child 
nature  does  not  change.  The  story  hour  in  the  home 
is  a  formidable  rival  of  the  street  and  the  nickelodeon, 
and  the  teacher  whose  fund  of  tales  is  large  and  who 
tells  them  joyously  has  little  trouble  with  discipline. 
Her  charges  know  that  she  holds  the  key  to  Magic 
Land,  and  that  if  they  are  good  she  will  open  the  gate. 
They  remember  her  with  affection,  and  best  of  all 
remember  the  dreams  that  came  into  being  under  her 
spell.  She  is  queen  of  her  little  realm  through  the 
royal  right  of  the  minstrel,  and  no  pretender  can  dis- 
lodge her  from  her  throne  in  the  hearts  that  she  has 
won. 

Yet  some  school  officials,  men  of  education  and 
refinement,  regard  story-telling  as  a  very  good  means 
of  entertainment,  but  unworthy  of  a  place  in  the  curric- 
ulum, and  when  urged  to  include  it  ask,  "Does  it 
pay?" 

If  it  is  worth  anything  to  make  formal  schoolroom 
subjects  joyous  instead  of  boresome,  then  story-telling 
pays;  if  it  is  necessary  to  give  the  child  something 
that  will  be  a  perennial  rainbow  in  his  soul,  some- 
thing that  will  keep  him  sweet  and  full  of  faith  and 
hope  when  disappointments  come  and  illusions  go, 


200  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

that  will  cause  him  to  laugh  at  age  even  in  the  time  of 
white  hairs  and  wrinkles,  then  story-telling  is  vitally 
necessary.  He  cannot  grow  bitter  who  possesses 
Aladdin's  lamp.  Dark  skies  may  lower  over  his  head 
and  the  thunder  crash  ominously  about  him,  but  if 
the  seeds  of  romance  have  been  planted  in  his  soul,  if 
poesy  has  been  nurtured  into  flower  there  by  the  world's 
best  stories  heard  in  his  youth,  he  will  retain,  even  in 
the  midst  of  blackness  and  tempest,  a  vision  of  tur- 
quoise skies  behind  the  clouds,  a  dream  of  sun-kissed 
fields  where  grow  everlasting  flowers  of  fragrance  and 
beauty. 

Is  the  reward  to  the  worker  not  worth  the  price  ? 
One  guerdon  lies  in  the  thought  that  he  who  joins  the 
ranks  of  story-tellers  becomes  a  member  of  a  glorious 
company,  one  with  which  the  greatest  souls  of  the 
world  were  not  unwilling  to  be  identified.  Goethe 
never  felt  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  gather  a  group  of 
children  about  him  and  delight  them  with  a  tale,  and 
nothing  speaks  more  eloquently  of  the  sweetness  of 
Verdi's  nature  than  one  of  his  letters  to  his  librettist 
that  relates  how,  in  his  visits  back  to  the  hill  town 
where  he  was  born,  it  gladdened  him  to  see  gamins 
swarm  from  every  quarter,  exclaiming,  "Una  favola, 
signor,  una  favola ! " 

"He  is  a  happy  man,"  says  Chateaubriand,  "who 
keeps  through  a  turbulent  lifetime  the  heart  of  a  child, 
who  carries  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  journey  some  of 
the  illusions  stored  up  in  his  youth,  for  contact  with 
envy  and  calumny  and  deception  are  apt  to  cause  them 
to  take  flight."  The  author  of  Faust  and  the  creator 
of  Otelh  each  had  his  share  of  brushing  against  the 


Does  the  Work  of  the  Story-Teller  Pay?      201 

things  that  make  men  bitter.  They  had  sounded  the 
depths  of  discouragement  and  disappointment,  yet 
they  had  the  hearts  of  children,  and  who  knows  but 
that  telling  stories  to  children  had  something  to  do 
with  keeping  them  young?  During  Verdi's  period  of 
struggle  and  heartbreak,  when  Milan  jeered  at  his 
compositions  and  critics  declared  him  a  man  of  no 
talent,  when  obstacles  piled  so  high  it  seemed  beyond 
mortal  power  to  remove  them,  when  no  one  in  the  city 
but  himself  and  his  wife  believed  in  him,  instead  of 
becoming  sour  and  worthless,  as  any  but  a  granitic 
nature  like  his  would  have  done,  he  returned  to  his 
native  highlands  and  told  stories  to  children  who 
thought  him  more  wonderful  than  a  king ;  then  he  went 
back  to  his  labor  strong  and  fit.  Forgetting  himself  in 
delighting  the  village  bambinos  bolstered  up  his  cour- 
age and  his  faith  and  helped  to  make  him  an  exuberant 
giver.  Perhaps  the  present-day  story-teller,  like  that 
master  at  Roncone,  if  he  approach  his  work  reverently 
and  keep  in  mind  a  thought  of  what  it  has  meant  to 
the  world,  may  receive  as  much  as  he  gives. 


STORIES  FOR  TELLING 
THE  STORY  OF  THE  MAN  IN  THE  MOON 

(Alsatian   Folk    Tale  —  Christmas    Story  —  Ethics,    teaching 

honesty) 

The  man  in  the  moon  was  once  a  merry  peasant,  who 
ever  so  long  ago  lived  quite  amicably  with  his  good  wife 
and  children,  and  had  a  hut  with  a  wooden  floor  and  a  roof 
whose  thatch  was  as  thick  as  any  in  the  village.  Always 
there  was  plenty  of  black  bread  and  goat's  milk,  and  some- 
times on  Sundays  or  holidays  the  family  felt  rich  enough  to 
afford  a  bit  of  pork.  But  one  Holy  Night  that  peasant 
turned  dishonest,  and  then  something  happened. 

"What  shall  we  have  for  the  Christmas  feast?"  asked 
his  wife,  who  was  fat  and  jolly.  "Shall  it  be  our  good  rye 
bread  and  a  fine  joint  of  meat?" 

"To  be  sure,"  the  merry  husband  answered,  "but  that  is 
not  enough.  There  shall  be  cabbage  too." 

At  his  words  the  wife  opened  her  mouth  so  wide  that  it 
looked  like  a  big  round  window  in  her  face. 

"Cabbage!"  she  gasped.  "Pray,  how  can  that  be, 
since  we  have  not  a  leaf  in  the  hut  ?  " 

The  peasant  nodded  in  a  knowing  way  and  answered, 
"To  be  sure,  there  is  none  there  now,  but  there  will  be  by 
and  by." 

Then  he  held  his  tongue  as  if  he  thought  it  unwise  to  talk 
too  freely  to  a  woman,  took  a  basket,  and  went  out  of  the 
door.  His  wife  was  much  excited.  She  was  sure  he  had 
some  secret  message  from  the  fairies,  for  it  was  in  that  far- 
away time  when  strange  and  marvelous  things  happened. 

Down  along  the  road  the  peasant  hurried,  smiling  like  a 
village  maiden  on  the  way  to  meet  her  sweetheart  at  the  fair. 
Everywhere  lights  gleamed  from  the  windows,  and  he  laughed 
at  the  sight  of  them,  for  he  knew  people  were  inside,  think- 
ing of  the  feast  and  the  Holy  Night. 

203 


204  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"Which  makes  it  safe  for  me,"  he  murmured.  On  and 
on  he  went,  never  stopping  until  he  came  to  a  cabbage 
patch,  the  largest  and  finest  in  the  village.  They  were 
bigger  than  his  head,  those  cabbages,  and  every  one  of 
them  belonged  to  the  mayor. 

"But  some  shall  go  into  my  good  wife's  pot,"  he  laughed 
as  he  saw  them,  and  climbing  the  fence  he  went  into  the 
patch  and  began  to  help  himself. 

Then  suddenly  along  the  road  came  a  child  on  a  snow- 
white  horse.  He  rode  as  if  nothing  could  halt  him,  but 
seeing  the  man  in  the  patch,  he  stopped  and  shouted,  "What 
are  you  doing?"  The  peasant  looked  to  right  and  left  and 
began  to  stammer,  "Just  b-b-b-borrowing  some  of  the 
m-m-m-mayor's  cabbages,"  he  replied,  as  he  threw  a  plump 
one  into  his  basket. 

The  clear,  strong  tones  rang  out  again,  "You  steal,  and 
on  the  Holy  Night  too ! '  So  you  and  your  basket  shall  go 
to  the  moon." 

Then,  whisk !  Up  the  peasant  started  and  never  stopped 
until  he  came  to  the  middle  of  the  moon,  and  there  he  has 
stayed  ever  since.  Whether  or  not  he  ate  the  cabbages,  no 
one  knows,  but  he  and  his  basket  are  there  to  this  day, 
and  every  night  when  the  moon  is  full  you  may  see  them. 


THE  DISCONTENTED  PIG 

(Thuringian  Folk  Tale  —  Ethics,  teaching  contentment) 

Ever  so  long  ago,  in  the  time  when  there  were  fairies,  and 
men  and  animals  talked  together,  there  was  a  curly-tailed 
pig.  He  lived  by  himself  in  a  house  at  the  edge  of  the 
village,  and  every  day  he  worked  in  his  garden.  Whether 
the  sun  shone  or  the  rain  fell  he  hoed  and  dug  and  weeded, 
turning  the  earth  around  his  tomato  vines  and  loosening 


Stories  for  Telling  205 

the  soil  of  the  carrot  plot,  until  word  of  his  fine  vegetables 
traveled  through  seven  counties,  and  each  year  he  won  the 
royal  prize  at  the  fair. 

But  after  a  time  that  little  pig  grew  tired  of  the  endless  toil. 

"What  matters  it  if  I  do  have  the  finest  vegetables  in 
the  kingdom,"  he  thought,  "since  I  must  work  myself  to 
death  getting  them  to  grow  ?  I  mean  to  go  out  and  see  the 
world  and  find  an  easier  way  of  making  a  living." 

So  he  locked  the  door  of  his  house  and  shut  the  gate  of 
his  garden  and  started  down  the  road. 

A  good  three  miles  he  traveled,  till  he  came  to  a  cottage 
almost  hidden  in  a  grove  of  trees.  Lovely  music  sounded 
around  him  and  Little  Pig  smiled,  for  he  had  an  ear  for 
sweet  sounds. 

"I  will  go  look  for  it,"  he  said,  following  in  the  direction 
from  which  it  seemed  to  come. 

Now  it  happened  that  in  that  house  dwelt  Thomas,  a  cat, 
who  made  his  living  playing  on  the  violin.  Little  Pig  saw 
him  standing  in  the  door  pushing  the  bow  up  and  down 
across  the  strings.  It  put  a  thought  into  his  head.  Surely 
this  must  be  easier  and  far  more  pleasant  than  digging  in  a 
garden ! 

"Will  you  teach  me  to  play  the  violin,  friend  cat?"  he 
asked. 

Thomas  looked  up  from  his  bow  and  nodded  his  head. 

"To  be  sure,"  he  answered ;   "just  do  as  I  am  doing." 

And  he  gave  him  the  bow  and  fiddle. 

Little  Pig  took  them  and  began  to  saw,  but  squeak! 
quang !  No  sweet  music  fell  upon  his  ear.  The  sounds  he 
heard  were  like  the  squealing  of  his  baby  brother  pigs  when 
a  wolf  came  near  them. 

"  Oh ! "  he  cried ;  "  this  isn't  music  1 " 

Thomas,  the  cat,  nodded  his  head. 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  said.  "  You  haven't  tried  long  enough. 
He  who  would  play  the  violin  must  work." 


206  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"Then  I  think  I'll  look  for  something  else,"  Piggywig 
answered,  "because  this  is  quite  as  hard  as  weeding  my 
garden." 

And  he  gave  back  the  bow  and  fiddle  and  started  down 
the  road. 

He  walked  on  and  on,  until  he  came  to  a  hut  where  lived 
a  dog  who  made  cheese.  He  was  kneading  and  molding 
the  curd  into  cakes,  and  Little  Pig  thought  it  looked  quite 
easy. 

"I  think  I'd  like  to  go  into  the  cheese  business  myself," 
he  said  to  himself.  So  he  asked  the  dog  if  he  would  teach 
him. 

This  the  dog  was  quite  willing  to  do,  and  a  moment  later 
Little  Pig  was  working  beside  him. 

Soon  he  grew  hot  and  tired  and  stopped  to  rest  and  fan 
himself. 

"No,  no  I"  exclaimed  the  dog,  "you  will  spoil  the  cheese. 
There  can  be  no  rest  time  until  the  work  is  done." 

Little  Pig  opened  his  eyes  in  amazement. 

"Indeed!"  he  replied.  "Then  this  is  just  as  hard  as 
growing  vegetables  or  learning  to  play  a  violin.  I  mean  to 
look  for  something  easier." 

And  he  started  down  the  road. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  river,  in  a  sweet  green  field,  a 
man  was  taking  honey  out  of  beehives.  Little  Pig  saw  him 
as  he  crossed  the  bridge  and  thought  that  of  all  the  trades 
he  had  seen,  this  suited  him  best.  It  must  be  lovely  there 
in  the  meadow  among  the  flowers.  Honey  was  not  heavy 
to  lift,  and  once  in  a  while  he  could  have  a  mouthful  of  it. 
He  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  go  to  ask  the  man  if  he  would 
take  him  into  his  employ. 

This  plan  pleased  the  bee  man  as  much  as  it  pleased  the 

Pig- 

"I've  been  looking  for  a  helper  for  a  year  and  a  day," 
he  said.  "Begin  work  at  once." 


Stories  for  Telling  207 

He  gave  Little  Pig  a  veil  and  a  pair  of  gloves,  telling  him 
to  fasten  them  on  well.  Then  he  told  him  to  lift  a  honey- 
comb out  of  a  hive. 

Little  Pig  ran  to  do  it,  twisting  his  curly  tail  in  the  joy 
of  having  at  last  found  a  business  that  suited  him.  But 
buzz,  buzz !  The  bees  crept  under  his  veil  and  inside  his 
gloves.  They  stung  him  on  his  fingers,  his  mouth,  his  ears, 
and  the  end  of  his  nose,  and  he  squealed  and  dropped  the 
honey  and  ran. 

"Come  back,  come  back !"  the  man  called. 

"No,  no!"  Little  Pig  answered  with  a  big  squeal.  "No, 
no,  the  bees  hurt  me ! " 

The  man  nodded  his  head. 

"Of  course  they  do,"  he  said.  "They  hurt  me  too! 
That  is  part  of  the  work.  You  cannot  be  a  beekeeper  with- 
out getting  stung." 

Little  Pig  blinked  his  beady  eyes  and  began  to  think  hard. 

"It  seems  that  every  kind  of  work  has  something  un- 
pleasant about  it.  To  play  the  violin  you  must  practice 
until  your  arm  aches.  When  you  make  cheese  you  dare 
not  stop  a  minute  until  the  work  is  done,  and  in  taking 
honey  from  a  hive  the  bees  sting  you  until  your  head  is  on 
fire.  Work  in  my  garden  is  not  so  bad  after  all,  and  I  am 
going  back  to  it." 

So  he  said  good-by  to  the  bee  man  and  was  soon  back  in 
his  carrot  patch.  He  hoed  and  raked  and  weeded,  singing 
as  he  worked,  and  there  was  no  more  contented  pig  in  all 
that  kingdom.  Every  autumn  he  took  his  vegetables  to 
the  fair  and  brought  home  the  royal  prize,  and  sometimes, 
on  holidays,  the  cat  and  the  dog  and  the  bee  man  came  to 
call. 


208  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

THE  BAT  AND  HIS  PARTNERS 

(Old  Bavarian  Folk  Tale  —  Helpful  in  Nature  Study) 

Once  upon  a  time  a  strange  thing  happened.  A  cormorant, 
a  bat,  and  a  bramble  met  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Elbe 
one  day  and  told  a  sorrowful  story.  Each  was  almost  bank- 
rupt; so  they  decided  to  postpone  paying  their  debts,  put 
their  remaining  possessions  together,  and  share  in  the  conse- 
quent weal  or  woe. 

They  bought  a  merchant  vessel,  a  ship  large  and  strong, 
and  so  seaworthy  it  seemed  it  could  sail  to  the  nethermost 
parts  of  the  Spanish  Main.  Wool  was  precious  then  as 
now,  and  in  a  country  far  away  a  hundredweight  of  sheep's 
fleece  brought  many  a  gold  doubloon.  So  they  freighted 
the  vessel  with  the  best  wool  that  was  to  be  had  and  joy- 
fully watched  the  white  sails  disappear  in  the  pearl-gray 
mist.  But  a  storm  arose  and  angry  winds  dashed  their 
galleon  against  demon-like  rocks.  Instead  of  reaching  a 
distant  land  of  gold  doubloons  the  ship  went  to  Davy 
Jones's  locker,  and  her  precious  cargo  made  couches  for  the 
mermaids. 

Then  sad  indeed  was  the  plight  of  these  partners  on  the 
North  Sea  shore!  Bailiffs  began  to  sue  them  for  payment 
of  their  debts,  and  ever  since  that  time  the  bat  has  flown 
by  night,  for  in  no  other  way  can  he  avoid  his  creditors. 
The  cormorant,  a  solitary  black  figure,  still  broods  beside 
the  waves  and  dives  into  the  sea,  hoping  to  retrieve  his 
shattered  fortune,  while  the  bramble  has  turned  thief. 
Whenever  a  sheep  goes  by,  he  seizes  a  bit  of  the  fleece,  try- 
ing in  this  way  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  the  wool  that  went 
to  the  bottom  of  the  Spanish  Main  instead  of  bringing  him 
the  gold  of  which  he  had  dreamed. 


Stories  for  Telling  209 

BRIER  ROSE 

RETOLD  FROM  GRIMM 

(Wonder  Tale) 

In  olden  times  there  lived  a  king  and  queen,  who  lamented 
day  by  day  that  they  had  no  children ;  and  yet  never  a  one 
was  born.  One  day,  as  the  queen  was  bathing  and  thinking 
of  her  wishes,  a  frog  skipped  out  of  the  water  and  said  to 
her:  "Your  wish  shall  be  fulfilled.  Before  a  year  passes 
you  shall  have  a  daughter." 

As  the  frog  had  said,  so  it  happened,  and  a  little  girl  was 
born  who  was  so  beautiful  that  the  king  almost  lost  his 
senses ;  but  he  ordered  a  great  feast  to  be  held,  and  invited 
to  it  not  only  his  relatives,  friends,  and  acquaintances,  but 
also  all  the  wise  women  who  were  kind  and  affectionate  to 
children.  There  happened  to  be  thirteen  in  his  dominions, 
but  since  he  had  only  twelve  golden  plates  out  of  which 
they  could  eat,  one  had  to  stay  at  home.  The  feast  was 
celebrated  with  all  the  magnificence  possible,  and,  as  soon 
as  it  was  over,  the  wise  women  presented  the  infant  with 
their  wonderful  gifts :  one  with  virtue,  another  with  beauty, 
a  third  with  riches,  and  so  on,  so  that  the  child  had  every- 
thing that  is  to  be  desired  in  the  world.  Just  as  eleven 
had  given  their  presents,  the  thirteenth  old  lady  stepped  in 
suddenly.  She  was  in  a  tremendous  passion  because  she 
had  not  been  invited,  and,  without  greeting  any  one  or  look- 
ing at  any  one,  she  exclaimed  loudly,  "The  princess  shall 
prick  herself  with  a  spindle  on  her  fifteenth  birthday  and 
shall  die !"  and  without  a  word  further  she  turned  her  back 
and  left  the  hall.  All  were  terrified,  but  the  twelfth  fairy, 
who  had  not  yet  given  her  wish,  then  stepped  up.  Because 
she  could  not  take  away  the  evil  wish,  but  could  only  soften 
it,  she  said,  "She  shall  not  die,  but  shall  fall  into  a  sleep  of 
a  hundred  years'  duration." 


210  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  king,  who  naturally  wished  to  protect  his  child  from 
this  misfortune,  issued  a  decree  commanding  that  every 
spindle  in  the  kingdom  should  be  burnt.  Meanwhile  all 
the  gifts  of  the  wise  women  were  fulfilled,  and  the  maiden 
became  so  beautiful,  gentle,  virtuous,  and  clever,  that 
every  one  who  saw  her  fell  in  love  with  her.  It  happened 
on  the  day  when  she  was  just  fifteen  years  old  that  the  queen 
and  the  king  were  not  at  home,  and  so  she  was  left  alone  in 
the  castle.  The  maiden  looked  about  in  every  place,  going 
through  all  the  rooms  and  chambers  just  as  she  pleased, 
until  she  came  at  last  to  an  old  tower.  Up  the  narrow 
winding  staircase  she  tripped  until  she  arrived  at  a  door, 
in  the  lock  of  which  was  a  rusty  key.  This  she  turned,  and 
the  door  sprang  open,  and  there  in  the  little  room  sat  an 
old  woman  with  a  spindle,  spinning  flax. 

"Good  day  to  you,"  said  the  princess,  "what  is  this  that 
you  are  doing  here?" 

"I  am  spinning,"  said  the  old  woman,  nodding  her  head. 

"What  thing  is  that  which  twists  round  so  merrily?"  in- 
quired the  maiden,  and  she  took  the  spindle  to  try  her  hand 
at  spinning.  Scarcely  had  she  done  so  when  the  prophecy 
was  fulfilled,  for  she  pricked  her  finger;  and  at  the  very 
same  moment  she  fell  back  in  a  deep  sleep  upon  a  bed  which 
stood  near.  This  sleep  extended  over  the  whole  palace. 
The  king  and  queen,  who  had  just  come  in,  fell  asleep  in  the 
hall,  and  all  their  courtiers  with  them;  the  horses  in  the 
stables,  the  doves  upon  the  eaves,  the  flies  upon  the  walls, 
and  even  the  fire  upon  the  hearth,  all  ceased  to  stir;  the 
meat  which  was  cooking  ceased  to  frizzle ;  and  the  cook  at 
the  instant  of  pulling  the  hair  of  the  kitchen  boy  lost  his 
hold  and  began  to  snore,  too.  The  wind  also  fell  entirely, 
and  not  a  leaf  rustled  on  the  trees  round  the  castle. 

Now  around  the  palace  a  thick  hedge  of  briers  began 
growing,  which  every  year  grew  higher  and  higher,  till  the 
castle  was  quite  hidden  from  view,  so  that  one  could  not 


Stories  for  Telling  211 

even  see  the  flag  upon  the  tower.  Then  there  went  a  legend 
through  the  land,  of  the  beautiful  maiden  Brier  Rose,  for 
so  was  the  sleeping  princess  named,  and  from  time  to  time 
princes  came,  endeavoring  to  penetrate  through  the  hedge 
into  the  castle ;  but  it  was  not  possible,  for  the  thorns  held 
them  as  if  by  hands,  and  the  youths  were  unable  to  release 
themselves,  and  so  perished  miserably. 

After  the  lapse  of  many  years,  there  came  another  king's 
son  into  the  country,  and  heard  an  old  man  tell  the  legend 
of  the  hedge  of  briers ;  how  that  behind  it  stood  a  castle 
where  slept  a  wonderfully  beauteous  princess  called  Brier 
Rose,  who  had  slumbered  nearly  a  hundred  years,  and  with 
her  the  queen  and  king  and  all  their  court.  The  old  man 
further  related  what  he  had  heard  from  his  grandfather, 
that  many  princes  had  come  and  tried  to  penetrate  the 
hedge,  and  had  died  a  miserable  death.  But  the  youth  was 
not  to  be  daunted,  and,  however  much  the  old  man  tried 
to  dissuade  him,  he  would  not  listen,  but  cried  out,  "I  fear 
not,  I  will  see  this  hedge  of  briers!" 

Just  at  that  time  came  the  last  day  of  the  hundred  years, 
when  Brier  Rose  was  to  wake  again.  As  the  young  prince 
approached  the  hedge,  the  thorns  turned  to  fine  large  flowers, 
which  of  their  own  accord  made  a  way  for  him  to  pass 
through,  and  again  closed  up  behind  him.  In  the  courtyard 
he  saw  the  horses  and  dogs  lying  fast  asleep,  and  on  the 
eaves  were  the  doves  with  their  heads  beneath  their  wings. 
As  soon  as  he  went  into  the  house,  there  were  the  flies  asleep 
upon  the  wall,  the  cook  still  stood  with  his  hands  on  the  hair 
of  the  kitchen  boy,  and  the  maid  stood  at  the  board  with 
the  unplucked  fowl  in  her  hand.  He  went  on,  and  in  the 
hall  he  found  the  courtiers  lying  asleep,  and  above,  by  the 
throne,  were  the  king  and  queen.  He  went  on  farther,  and 
all  was  so  quiet  that  he  could  hear  himself  breathe,  until 
at  last  he  came  to  the  tower  and  opened  the  door  of  the 
little  room  where  slept  Brier  Rose.  There  she  lay,  looking 


212  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

so  beautiful  that  he  could  not  turn  away  his  eyes,  and  he 
bent  over  her  and  kissed  her.  Just  as  he  did  so  she  opened 
her  eyes,  awoke,  and  greeted  him  with  smiles.  Then  they 
went  down  together,  and  immediately  the  king  and  queen 
awoke,  and  the  whole  court,  and  all  stared  at  each  other 
wonderingly.  Now  the  horses  in  the  stable  got  up  and 
shook  themselves;  the  dogs  wagged  their  tails;  the  doves 
upon  the  eaves  drew  their  heads  from  under  their  wings, 
looked  around,  and  flew  away;  the  flies  upon  the  walls 
began  to  crawl ;  the  fire  began  to  burn  brightly  and  to  cook 
the  meat;  the  meat  began  again  to  frizzle;  the  cook  gave 
his  lad  a  box  upon  the  ear  which  made  him  call  out ;  and  the 
maid  began  to  pluck  the  fowl  furiously.  The  whole  palace 
was  once  more  in  motion  as  if  nothing  had  occurred,  for 
the  hundred  years'  sleep  had  made  no  change  in  any  one. 

By  and  by  the  wedding  of  the  prince  with  Brier  Rose  was 
celebrated  with  great  splendor,  and  to  the  end  of  their  lives 
they  lived  happily  and  contented. 


THE  COAT  OF  ALL  COLORS 

RETOLD  FROM  GRIMM 
(Thuringian  Wonder  Tale) 

There  was  once  a  king  whose  wife  had  golden  hair  and 
was  altogether  so  beautiful  that  her  equal  was  not  to  be 
found  in  the  world.  It  happened  that  she  fell  ill,  and  when 
she  felt  she  must  soon  die  she  called  the  king  and  said,  "If 
you  marry  again  after  my  death,  take  no  one  who  is  not  as 
beautiful  as  I  have  been,  nor  one  who  has  not  golden  hair 
like  mine,  and  this  you  must  promise  me."  After  the  king 
had  promised  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  soon  died. 

For  a  long  time  the  king  would  not  be  comforted  and 
thought  not  of  taking  a  second  wife,  but  his  councilors  at 


Stories  for  Telling  213 

last  said  that  he  must  marry  again.  Then  messengers 
were  sent  far  and  wide  to  seek  a  bride  who  should  be  as 
beautiful  as  the  late  queen,  but  there  was  no  one  to  be  found 
in  the  whole  world  so  beautiful  and  with  such  golden  hair. 
So  the  messengers  returned  home  without  accomplishing 
anything. 

Now  the  king  had  a  daughter  who  was  just  as  beautiful 
as  her  dead  mother.  She  had  also  the  same  golden  hair,  and, 
as  she  grew  up,  the  king  saw  how  like  she  was  to  his  lost 
wife.  He  told  his  councilors  that  he  wished  to  marry  his 
daughter  to  his  oldest  councilor,  and  that  she  should  be  as 
queen.  When  the  oldest  councilor  heard  this  he  was  de- 
lighted. But  the  daughter  was  frightened  at  the  resolve 
of  the  king,  and  hoped  yet  to  turn  him  from  his  intention. 
So  she  said  to  him,  "Before  I  fulfill  your  wish  I  must  first 
have  three  dresses :  one  as  golden  as  the  sun,  another  as 
silver  as  the  moon,  and  a  third  as  shining  as  the  stars; 
further,  I  desire  a  cloak  composed  of  thousands  of  skins 
and  hides,  and  to  which  every  beast  in  your  kingdom  must 
contribute  a  portion  of  his  skin." 

The  princess  thought  this  would  be  impossible  to  do,  and 
so  she  should  reclaim  her  father  from  his  intention.  But 
the  king  would  not  give  it  up,  and  the  cleverest  maidens 
in  his  kingdom  had  to  weave  the  three  dresses,  one  as  golden 
as  the  sun,  a  second  as  silver  as  the  moon,  and  a  third  as 
shining  as  the  stars,  while  his  huntsmen  had  to  catch  all  the 
beasts  in  the  whole  kingdom  and  from  each  take  a  piece 
of  skin  wherewith  a  mantle  of  a  thousand  pieces  was  made. 
At  length,  when  all  was  ready,  the  king  let  the  mantle  be 
fetched,  and,  spreading  it  before  him,  said,  "Tomorrow 
shall  the  wedding  be." 

When  the  king's  daughter  now  saw  that  there  was  no  hope 
left  of  turning  her  father  from  his  resolve,  she  determined 
to  flee  away.  In  the  night,  while  all  slept,  she  got  up  and 
took  three  of  her  treasures,  a  golden  ring,  a  gold  spinning 


214  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

wheel,  and  a  gold  reel ;  she  put  also  in  a  nutshell  the  three 
dresses  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  putting  on  the 
mantle  of  all  skins,  she  dyed  her  hands  and  face  black  with 
soot.  Then,  commending  herself  to  God,  she  set  off  and 
traveled  the  whole  night  till  she  came  to  a  large  wood,  where, 
feeling  very  tired,  she  took  refuge  in  a  hollow  tree  and  went 
to  sleep.  The  sun  rose,  and  she  still  slept  and  slept  on  till 
it  was  again  far  into  the  morning.  Then  it  happened  that 
the  king  who  owned  this  forest  came  to  hunt  in  it.  As 
soon  as  his  dogs  ran  to  the  tree  they  snapped  about  it, 
barked,  and  growled,  so  that  the  king  said  to  his  huntsmen, 
"See  what  wild  animal  it  is  that  is  concealed  there."  The 
hunters  obeyed  his  orders,  and,  when  they  returned,  they 
said,  "In  that  hollow  lies  a  wonderful  creature  whose  like 
we  have  never  before  seen ;  its  skin  is  composed  of  a  thou- 
sand different  colors,  but  it  lies  quite  quiet  and  asleep." 
The  king  said,  "Try  if  you  can  catch  it  alive,  and  then  bind 
it  to  the  carriage,  and  we  will  take  it  with  us." 

As  soon  as  the  hunters  caught  hold  of  the  maiden,  she 
awoke  full  of  terror,  and  called  out  to  them,  "I  am  a  poor 
child  forsaken  by  both  father  and  mother !  Pray  pity  me, 
and  take  me  with  you!"  They  named  her  "Allerleirauh," 
because  of  her  mantle,  and  took  her  home  with  them  to 
serve  in  the  kitchen  and  rake  out  the  ashes.  They  went 
to  the  royal  palace,  and  there  they  showed  her  a  little  stable 
under  the  step  where  no  daylight  could  enter,  and  told 
her  she  could  live  and  sleep  there.  Afterwards  she  went 
into  the  kitchen,  and  there  she  had  to  carry  water  and 
wood  to  make  the  fire,  to  pluck  the  fowls,  to  peel  the 
vegetables,  to  rake  out  the  ashes,  and  to  do  all  manner  of 
dirty  work. 

Here,  for  a  length  of  time,  Allerleirauh  lived  wretchedly ; 
but  it  happened  once  that  a  feast  was  held  in  the  palace, 
and  she  asked  the  cook,  "May  I  go  and  look  on  for  a  little 
while?  I  will  place  myself  just  outside  the  door."  The 


Stories  for  Telling  215 

cook  said,  "Yes,  but  in  half  an  hour's  time  you  must  return 
and  rake  out  the  ashes." 

Allerleirauh  took  an  oil  lamp,  and,  going  to  her  stable, 
put  off  the  gown  of  skins  and  washed  the  soot  from  her  face 
and  hands  so  that  her  real  beauty  was  displayed.  Then  she 
opened  her  nut  and  took  out  the  dress  which  shone  as  the 
sun,  and  as  soon  as  she  was  ready  she  went  up  to  the  ball- 
room, where  every  one  made  way  for  her,  supposing  that  she 
was  certainly  some  princess.  The  king  himself  soon  came 
up  to  her,  and,  taking  her  hand,  danced  with  her,  thinking 
the  while  in  his  heart  that  he  had  never  seen  any  one  like 
her.  As  soon  as  the  dance  was  finished  she  disappeared, 
and  nobody  knew  whither.  The  watchmen  stationed  at  the 
gates  were  called  and  questioned,  but  they  had  not  seen 
her. 

She  had  run  back  to  her  stable  and,  having  quickly  taken 
off  her  dress,  had  again  blackened  her  face  and  hands,  put 
on  the  dress  of  all  skins,  and  became  "Allerleirauh"  once 
more.  As  soon  as  she  went  into  the  kitchen  to  do  her  work 
in  sweeping  up  the  ashes,  the  cook  said,  "Let  that  be  for 
once  till  the  morning,  and  cook  the  king's  supper  for  me  in- 
stead, while  I  go  upstairs  to  have  a  peep ;  but  mind  you  do 
not  let  one  of  your  hairs  fall  in,  or  you  will  get  nothing  to 
eat  for  the  future." 

So  saying,  he  went  away,  and  Allerleirauh  cooked  the 
king's  supper,  making  some  soup  as  good  as  she  possibly 
could,  and  when  it  was  ready  she  went  into  the  stable,  and 
fetched  her  gold  ring,  and  laid  it  in  the  dish.  When  the 
dance  was  at  an  end,  the  king  ordered  his  supper  to  be 
brought,  which,  when  he  had  tasted,  he  thought  he  had 
never  eaten  anything  so  nice  before.  Just  as  he  nearly 
finished  it  he  saw  a  gold  ring  at  the  bottom,  and,  not  being 
able  to  imagine  how  it  came  there,  he  commanded  the  cook 
to  be  brought  before  him.  The  cook  was  terrified  when  he 
heard  this  order,  and  said  to  Allerleirauh,  "Are  you  certain 


216  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

you  did  not  let  a  hair  fall  into  the  soup?     For  if  it  is  so, 
you  will  catch  a  beating." 

Then  he  came  before  the  king,  who  asked  who  had  cooked 
the  supper,  and  he  answered,  "I  did."  But  the  king  said, 
"That  is  not  true ;  for  it  is  of  a  much  better  kind  and  much 
better  cooked  than  usual."  Then  the  cook  said,  "I  must 
confess  that  not  I,  but  Allerleirauh,  cooked  it."  So  that 
the  king  commanded  that  she  should  be  brought  up. 

When  Allerleirauh  came,  the  king  asked,  "Who  are  you?" 

"I  am  a  poor  child,  without  father  or  mother,"  replied 
she. 

"Why  did  you  come  to  my  palace?"  then  inquired  the 
king. 

"  I  am  good  for  nothing  else  but  to  have  the  boots  thrown 
at  my  head,"  said  she. 

The  king  asked  again,  "Where  did  you  get  this  ring, 
then,  which  was  in  the  soup?" 

Allerleirauh  said,  "I  know  nothing  of  it."  And,  as  she 
would  say  no  more,  she  was  at  last  sent  away. 

After  a  time  there  was  another  ball,  and  Allerleirauh 
asked  the  cook's  permission  to  go  again  and  look  on,  and  he 
consented,  and  told  her,  "Return  here  in  half  an  hour  to 
cook  the  king  again  the  same  soup  which  he  liked  so  much 
before." 

Allerleirauh  ran  into  the  stable  and,  washing  herself 
quickly,  took  out  of  the  shell  the  dress  which  was  silver  as 
the  moon,  and  put  it  on.  Then  she  went  up  to  the  ball- 
room and  appeared  like  a  princess,  and  the  king,  stepping 
up  to  her,  was  very  glad  to  see  her  again ;  and,  as  the  danc- 
ing had  just  begun,  they  joined  it.  But  as  soon  as  it  was 
over,  his  partner  disappeared  so  quickly  that  the  king  did 
not  notice  where  she  went.  She  ran  to  her  stable  and 
changed  her  garments  again,  and  then  went  into  the  kitchen 
to  make  the  soup.  While  the  cook  was  upstairs,  she  fetched 
the  golden  spinning  wheel  and  put  it  in  the  tureen,  so  that 


Stories  for  Telling  217 

the  soup  was  served  up  with  it.  Afterwards  it  was  brought 
before  the  king,  who  ate  it,  and  found  it  tasted  as  good  as 
the  former;  and  the  cook  was  called,  who  was  obliged  to 
confess  again  that  Allerleirauh  had  made  it.  Allerleirauh 
was  accordingly  taken  before  the  king,  but  she  repeated 
what  she  had  before  said,  that  she  was  of  no  use  but  to  have 
boots  thrown  at  her,  and  that  she  knew  nothing  of  the  gold 
spinning  wheel. 

Not  long  afterwards  a  third  feast  was  given  by  the  king, 
at  which  everything  went  as  before.  The  cook  said  to 
Allerleirauh  when  she  asked  leave  to  go,  "You  are  certainly 
a  witch,  and  always  put  something  in  the  soup  which  makes 
it  taste  better  than  mine.  Still,  since  you  beg  so  hard,  you 
shall  go  at  the  usual  time."  This  time  she  put  on  the  dress 
shining  as  the  stars,  and  stepped  with  it  into  the  ballroom. 
The  king  danced  again  with  her,  and  thought  he  had  never 
seen  any  maiden  so  beautiful,  and  while  the  dance  went  on 
he  slipped  the  gold  ring  on  to  her  finger  without  her  per- 
ceiving it  and  told  the  musicians  to  prolong  the  time.  When 
at  last  it  ended,  he  would  have  kept  fast  hold  of  her  hand, 
but  she  tore  herself  away,  and  sprang  so  quickly  in  among 
the  people  that  she  disappeared  from  his  sight.  Allerleirauh 
ran  as  well  as  she  could  back  to  her  stable ;  but  she  had  stayed 
over  and  above  the  half  hour,  and  she  had  not  time  to  pull 
off  her  beautiful  dress,  but  was  obliged  to  throw  over  it  her 
cloak  of  skins.  Neither  did  she  quite  finish  the  blacking  of 
her  skin,  but  left  one  finger  white.  Then  she  ran  into  the 
kitchen,  cooked  the  soup  for  the  king,  and  put  in  it  the  reel, 
while  the  cook  stayed  upstairs.  Afterwards,  when  the  king 
found  the  reel  at  the  bottom  of  his  soup,  he  summoned 
Allerleirauh,  and  perceived  at  once  her  white  finger,  and  the 
ring  which  he  had  put  on  it  during  the  dance.  He  took  her 
by  the  hand  and  held  her  fast,  and  when  she  tried  to  force 
herself  from  him  and  run  away,  her  cloak  of  skins  fell  partly 
off  and  the  starry  dress  was  displayed  to  view.  The  king 


218  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

then  pulled  the  cloak  wholly  off,  and  down  came  her  golden 
hair,  and  there  she  stood  in  all  her  beauty,  and  could  no 
longer  conceal  herself.  As  soon,  then,  as  the  soot  and 
ashes  were  washed  off  her  face,  she  stood  up  and  appeared 
more  beautiful  than  any  one  could  conceive  possible  on  earth. 
But  the  king  said  to  her,  "You  are  my  dear  bride,  and  we 
will  never  separate  from  each  other."  Thereupon  was  the 
wedding  celebrated,  and  they  lived  happily  to  the  end  of 
their  lives. 

THE  POOR  MAN  AND  THE  RICH  MAN 

RETOLD  FROM  GRIMM 
(Folk  Tale  —  Ethics,  teaching  kindness) 

In  olden  times,  when  the  good  angels  walked  the  earth  in 
the  form  of  men,  it  happened  that  one  of  them,  while  he  was 
wandering  about  very  tired,  saw  night  coming  upon  him 
before  he  had  found  a  shelter.  But  there  stood  on  the  road 
close  by  two  houses  opposite  to  one  another,  one  of  which 
was  large  and  handsome,  while  the  other  appeared  miser- 
ably poor.  The  former  belonged  to  a  rich  man,  and  the 
other  to  a  poor  man,  so  that  the  angel  thought  he  could 
lodge  with  the  former,  because  it  would  be  less  burdensome 
to  him  than  to  the  other  to  entertain  a  guest.  Accordingly 
he  knocked  at  the  door,  and  the  rich  man,  opening  the 
window,  asked  the  stranger  what  he  sought.  The  angel 
replied,  "I  seek  a  night's  lodging."  Then  the  rich  man 
scanned  the  stranger  from  head  to  foot,  and  perceiving  that 
he  wore  ragged  clothes,  and  seemed  like  one  who  had  not 
much  money  in  his  pocket,  he  shook  his  head  and  said,  "I 
cannot  take  you  in ;  my  rooms  are  full  of  herbs  and  seeds, 
and,  should  I  shelter  every  one  who  knocks  at  my  door,  I 
might  soon  take  the  beggar's  staff  into  my  own  hand.  Seek 
a  welcome  elsewhere." 


Stories  for  Telling  219 

So  saying,  he  shut  his  window  to,  and  left  the  good  angel, 
who  immediately  turned  his  back  upon  him  and  went  over 
to  the  little  house.  Here  he  had  scarcely  knocked,  when 
the  door  was  opened  and  the  poor  man  bade  the  wanderer 
welcome,  and  said,  "Stop  here  this  night  with  me;  it  is 
quite  dark,  and  today  you  can  go  no  farther."  This  recep- 
tion pleased  the  angel  much,  and  he  walked  in ;  and  the  wife 
of  the  poor  man  also  bade  him  welcome  and,  holding  out 
her  hand,  said,  "Make  yourself  at  home,  and  though  it  is 
not  much  that  we  have,  we  will  give  it  to  you  with  all  our 
heart."  Then  she  placed  some  potatoes  at  the  fire,  and 
while  they  roasted  she  milked  her  goat  for  something  to 
drink  with  them.  When  the  table  was  laid,  the  good  angel 
sat  down  and  ate  with  them,  and  the  rude  fare  tasted  good, 
because  they  who  partook  of  it  had  happy  faces.  After 
they  had  finished,  when  bedtime  came,  the  wife  called  the 
husband  aside  and  said  to  him,  "Let  us  sleep  tonight  on 
straw,  my  dear,  that  this  poor  wanderer  may  have  our  bed 
whereon  to  rest  himself,  for  he  has  been  walking  all  day 
long,  and  is  doubtless  very  tired." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  replied  her  husband;  "I  will  offer 
it  to  him ;"  and,  going  up  to  the  angel,  he  begged  him,  if  he 
pleased,  to  lie  in  their  bed  that  he  might  rest  his  limbs 
thoroughly.  The  good  angel  at  first  refused  to  take  the  bed 
of  his  hosts,  but  at  last  he  yielded  to  their  entreaties  and  lay 
down,  while  they  made  a  straw  couch  upon  the  ground. 
The  next  morning  they  arose  early  and  cooked  their  guest  a 
breakfast  of  the  best  that  they  had,  and  when  the  sun  shone 
through  the  window  he  got  up,  too,  and,  after  eating  with 
them,  prepared  to  set  out  again.  When  he  stood  in  the  door- 
way he  turned  round  and  said  to  his  hosts,  "Because  you 
are  so  compassionate  and  pious,  you  may  wish  three  times 
and  I  will  grant,  each  time,  what  you  desire." 

The  poor  man  replied,  "Ah,  what  else  can  I  wish  than 
eternal  happiness,  and  that  we  two,  so  long  as  we  live,  may 


220  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

have  health  and  strength  and  our  necessary  daily  bread? 
For  the  third  thing  I  know  not  what  to  wish." 

"Will  you  not  wish  for  a  new  house  in  place  of  this  old 
one?"  asked  the  angel. 

"Oh,  yes  1"  said  the  man,  "if  I  may  keep  on  this  spot,  so 
would  it  be  welcome." 

Then  the  good  angel  fulfilled  his  wishes  and  changed  their 
old  house  into  a  new  one,  and,  giving  them  once  more  his 
blessing,  went  out  of  the  house. 

It  was  already  broad  daylight  when  the  rich  man  arose 
and,  looking  out  of  his  window,  saw  a  handsome  new  house 
of  red  brick  where  formerly  an  old  hut  had  stood.  The 
sight  made  him  open  his  eyes,  and  he  called  his  wife 
up  and  asked,  "Tell  me  what  has  happened;  yesterday 
evening  an  old,  miserable  hut  stood  opposite,  and  today 
there  is  a  fine  new  house !  Run  out  and  hear  how  this  has 
happened!" 

The  wife  went  and  asked  the  poor  man,  who  related  that 
the  evening  before  a  wanderer  had  come,  seeking  a  night's 
lodging,  and  that  in  the  morning  he  had  taken  his  leave, 
and  granted  them  three  wishes  —  eternal  happiness,  health 
and  food  during  their  lives,  and  instead  of  their  old  hut,  a 
fine  new  house.  When  he  had  finished  his  tale,  the  wife  of 
the  rich  man  ran  home  and  told  her  husband  all  that  had 
passed,  and  he  exclaimed,  "Ah !  had  I  only  known  it !  The 
stranger  had  been  here  before,  and  would  have  passed  the 
night  with  us,  but  I  sent  him  away." 

"  Hasten,  then  1 "  returned  his  wife.  "  Mount  your  horse, 
and  perhaps  you  may  overtake  the  man,  and  then  you  must 
ask  three  wishes  for  yourself  also." 

The  rich  man  followed  this  advice,  and  soon  overtook  the 
angel.  He  spoke  softly  and  glibly,  begging  that  the  angel 
would  not  take  it  ill  that  he  had  not  let  him  in  at  first,  for 
that  he  had  gone  to  seek  the  key  of  the  house  door,  and 
meanwhile  he  had  gone  away,  but  if  the  angel  came  back 


Stories  for  Telling  221 

the  same  way  he  would  be  glad  if  he  would  call  again.  The 
angel  promised  that  he  would  come  on  his  return,  and  the 
rich  man  then  asked  if  he  might  not  wish  thrice  as  his  neigh- 
bor had  been  allowed.  "Yes,"  said  the  angel,  "you  may 
certainly,  but  it  will  not  be  good  for  you,  and  it  were  better 
you  did  not  wish." 

But  the  rich  man  thought  he  might  easily  obtain  some- 
thing which  would  tend  to  his  happiness,  if  he  only  knew 
that  it  would  be  fulfilled,  and  so  the  angel  at  length  said, 
"Ride  home,  and  the  three  wishes  which  you  shall  make 
shall  be  answered." 

The  rich  man  now  had  what  he  desired,  and,  as  he  rode 
homewards,  began  to  consider  what  he  should  wish.  While 
he  thought  he  let  his  rein  fall  loose,  and  his  horse  presently 
began  to  jump,  so  that  he  was  jerked  about,  and  so  much 
so  that  he  could  fix  his  mind  on  nothing.  He  patted  his 
horse  on  the  neck,  and  said,  "Be  quiet,  Bess!"  but  it  only 
began  fresh  friskings,  so  that  at  last  he  became  savage,  and 
cried  quite  impatiently,  "I  wish  you  might  break  your 
neck!"  No  sooner  had  he  said  so  than  down  it  fell  upon 
the  ground  and  never  moved  again,  and  thus  the  first  wish 
was  fulfilled.  But  the  rich  man,  being  covetous  by  nature, 
would  not  leave  the  saddle  behind,  and  so,  cutting  it  off, 
he  slung  it  over  his  back  and  went  onwards  on  foot.  "You 
still  have  two  wishes,"  thought  he  to  himself,  and  so  was 
comforted,  but  as  he  slowly  passed  over  the  sandy  common 
the  sun  scorched  him  terribly,  for  it  was  midday,  and  he 
soon  became  vexed  and  passionate;  moreover,  the  saddle 
hurt  his  back ;  and  besides,  he  had  not  yet  decided  what  to 
wish  for.  "  If  I  should  wish  for  all  the  treasures  and  riches 
in  the  world,"  said  he  to  himself,  "hereafter  something  or 
other  will  occur  to  me,  I  know  beforehand ;  but  I  will  so 
manage  that  nothing  at  all  shall  remain  for  me  to  wish  for." 

Many  times  he  thought  he  knew  what  to  wish,  but  soon 
it  appeared  too  little.  Then  it  came  into  his  thoughts  how 


222  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

well  his  wife  was  situated,  sitting  at  home  in  a  cool  room, 
and  appropriately  dressed.  This  idea  angered  him  un- 
commonly, and,  without  knowing  it,  he  said  aloud,  "  I  wish 
she  were  sitting  upon  this  saddle,  and  could  not  get  off  it, 
instead  of  its  being  slipping  about  on  my  back." 

As  soon  as  these  words  were  out  of  his  mouth,  the  saddle 
disappeared  from  his  back,  and  he  perceived  that  his  second 
wish  had  passed  its  fulfillment.  Now  he  became  very  hot, 
and  began  to  run,  intending  to  lock  himself  up  in  his  room 
and  consider  there  something  great  for  his  last  wish.  But 
when  he  arrived  and  opened  the  house  door  he  found  his 
wife  sitting  upon  the  saddle  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
crying  and  shrieking  because  she  could  not  get  off.  So  he 
said  to  her,  "Be  contented;  I  will  wish  for  the  riches  in  all 
the  world,  only  keep  sitting  there." 

But  his  wife  shook  her  head,  saying,  "Of  what  use  are  all 
the  riches  of  the  world  to  me,  if  I  sit  upon  this  saddle? 
You  have  wished  me  on  it,  and  you  must  also  wish  me 
off." 

So,  whether  he  liked  it  or  not,  he  was  forced  to  utter  his 
third  wish,  that  his  wife  might  be  freed  from  the  saddle, 
and  immediately  it  was  done.  Thus  the  rich  man  gained 
nothing  from  his  wishes  but  vexation,  trouble,  scolding,  and 
a  lost  horse ;  but  the  poor  people  lived  contented  and  pious 
to  their  lives'  end. 


.   THE  SILVER  CONES 
ADAPTED  FROM  STORY  BY  JOHANNA  SPYHI 
(Ethics  —  Geography) 

In  the  mountain  land  of  Bohemia  there  lived  in  the  long 
ago  a  miner  with  his  wife  and  little  daughter.  They  were 
happy  in  their  hut  in  the  forest,  but  after  a  time  the  father 


Stories  for  Telling  223 

and  mother  died,  and  the  child  was  left  alone  in  the  world. 
She  had  no  money,  and  no  aunts  or  cousins  to  take  her  in, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  have  to  go  hungry.  But  always 
there  are  kindly  hearts  among  the  poor,  and  one  of  the 
miners  opened  his  house  that  she  might  have  a  home.  He 
had  six  children  of  his  own  and  little  bread  and  meat  to  spare, 
but  his  good  wife  said,  "We  will  divide  what  we  have." 
So  little  Hilda  became  one  of  the  family,  and  they  grew  to 
love  her  very  much. 

It  was  midwinter,  and  Christmas  day  not  far  away.  The 
children  thought  of  nothing  but  the  coming  of  St.  Nicholas, 
who  they  hoped  would  not  forget  them  on  the  Holy  Night, 
when  every  boy  and  girl  in  Bohemia  expects  a  visit  from 
the  gift  bringer.  But  when  they  spoke  to  the  miner  about 
it  he  shook  his  head  and  said,  "Do  not  set  your  hearts  upon 
his  coming.  Our  hut  is  very  small  and  stands  so  far  in  the 
forest  that  he  may  not  be  able  to  find  it." 

Gretchen,  his  little  daughter,  had  a  very  different  idea. 
She  declared  St.  Nicholas  could  find  a  house  in  the  dark  if 
it  were  no  bigger  than  an  ant  hill,  and  went  to  bed  to  dream 
of  the  toys  and  sweetmeats  he  would  bring. 

Day  after  day  passed,  and  nearer,  nearer  came  the  season 
of  Christ's  birth.  The  children  talked  of  him  as  they  sat 
by  the  fire  at  night,  as  they  picked  up  dead  branches  in  the 
forest,  and  as  they  bedded  the  goats  and  shut  them  in,  for 
Bohemian  mountain  folk  are  a  toiling  people,  and  even  boys 
and  girls  must  work. 

At  last  the  day  before  Christmas  came,  and  in  the  after- 
noon little  Hilda  started  out  with  her  basket  to  get  some 
cones.  She  wanted  the  fire  to  be  brighter  and  more  cheerful 
than  ever  that  night,  and  perhaps  if  she  met  a  servant  from 
the  castle,  he  might  take  some  to  feed  the  prince's  fire,  and 
give  her  a  silver  piece. 

"And  if  he  does,"  she  thought  as  she  trudged  on  her  way, 
"I  can  buy  something  for  the  miner  and  his  dear  children." 


224  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Now,  in  that  land  of  Bohemia,  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty 
mountain,  a  creature  named  Rubezahl  made  his  home. 
He  possessed  all  magic  powers,  and  was  so  mighty  that  his 
sway  extended  to  the  very  center  of  the  earth.  There  he 
had  chambers  of  gold  and  silver,  and  diamonds  and  jewels 
without  number,  and  often  gave  of  his  treasures  to  those 
who  were  good  enough  to  deserve  them.  He  could  change 
himself  at  will  into  any  form.  Now  he  was  a  bat  flying  in 
the  night,  now  a  country  swain  selling  his  wares  at  the  fair, 
and  now  a  woodman  cutting  down  trees  in  the  forest,  be- 
cause thus  he  was  able  to  find  out  who  was  worthy  and  who 
unworthy,  and  to  reward  or  punish  them  as  they  deserved. 

Hilda  had  often  heard  of  the  strange  ways  of  Rubezahl, 
and  wondered  if  he  would  ever  cross  her  path. 

"I  suppose  not,"  she  murmured,  "because  I  am  just  a 
little  girl." 

As  she  came  near  the  fir  trees,  a  tiny  white-haired  man 
walked  out  of  the  shadow.  He  had  a  long  white  beard  and 
a  jolly  red  face,  and  looked  as  if  he  were  the  friend  of  children. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  called  to  her. 

"I've  come  to  gather  cones,"  she  replied;  "some  for  our 
fire  and  some  to  sell,  if  the  servant  from  the  castle  will  only 
buy." 

Then  she  told  him  of  the  miner's  family,  of  how  eager  she 
was  to  get  some  money  that  she  might  buy  a  gift  for  his  chil- 
dren, and  of  her  hope  that  St.  Nicholas  would  not  forget 
them  on  the  Holy  Night. 

The  little  old  man  seemed  much  interested,  and  when  she 
finished  her  story  he  said,  "The  largest  cones  are  on  that 
tree.  If  you  hope  to  sell,  gather  the  best  ones." 

He  pointed  to  a  great,  dark  fir  just  beyond  them,  and 
then  went  back  into  the  shadows  of  the  forest. 

Little  Hilda  thanked  him  and  ran  to  the  spot.  She  could 
see  the  cones  like  beehives  on  the  branches,  and  just  as  she 
came  under  them  there  was  such  a  downfall  of  beautiful 


Stories  for  Telling  225 

brown  things  it  frightened  her  and  she  began  to  run.  But 
thinking  of  what  she  could  do  with  such  big  ones,  she  went 
back,  filled  her  basket,  and  started  homeward. 

It  was  very  heavy,  and  the  farther  she  went  the  heavier  it 
grew. 

"I'll  have  to  ask  little  Gretchen  to  help  me  take  it  up 
the  hill  path  to  the  castle,"  she  thought.  But  by  the  time 
she  reached  the  hut  it  had  become  such  a  load  she  could 
not  move  it,  and  the  miner  had  to  carry  it  in  himself. 

"They  are  lovely  big  ones  and  of  a  beautiful  brown 
color,"  she  said  as  the  children  crowded  around  to  see. 

But  when  they  looked  at  the  basket  again,  they  saw  no 
brown  at  all.  Instead  there  was  a  gleam  brighter  than  that 
of  the  moonbeams  through  the  fir  trees,  for  a  wonderful 
thing  had  happened.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  every  one 
of  those  cones  had  turned  into  shining  silver,  which  sparkled 
and  glistened  so  that  they  dazzled  the  eyes. 

Then  the  little  girl  remembered  the  old  man  in  the  forest 
and  told  the  miner  about  him. 

He  nodded  his  head  in  a  knowing  way  and  said,  "Surely 
it  was  Riibezahl,  and  he  has  rewarded  you  for  being  sweet 
and  gentle." 

All  of  which  seemed  like  a  dream  to  little  Hilda,  but 
when  she  looked  into  the  basket  she  knew  it  was  true.  And 
so  knew  all  the  other  mountain  folk,  when  the  stars  of  the 
Holy  Night  shone  out  and  the  children  went  from  door  to 
door  distributing  silver  cones.  The  good  folk  who  gave 
her  a  home  received  so  many  that  never  again  were  they 
poor.  They  built  a  fine  house  with  a  porch  and  twenty 
windows,  and  were  as  rich  as  any  one  in  Bohemia. 

To  make  things  lovelier  still,  St.  Nicholas  found  the  hut, 
just  as  Gretchen  had  said  he  would,  and  left  some  sweets 
and  toys  for  the  children.  He  laughed  loud  and  long  when 
he  saw  the  shining  cones,  for  he  had  heard  all  about  it  from 
Riibezahl  himself. 


226  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

This  all  happened  very,  very  long  ago,  in  the  time  so  far 
away  that  even  the  oldest  grandmother  cannot  remember 
the  Holy  Night  when  Hilda  gave  precious  gifts  to  the  miners ; 
but  the  story  has  come  down  from  the  fathers  and  the  fathers' 
fathers,  and  that  is  why,  even  to  this  day,  the  mountain  folk 
of  Bohemia  still  deck  their  Christmas  trees  with  silvered 
cones. 


THE  FORGET-ME-NOT 

ADAPTED  FROM  VERSION  BY  HOFFMAN  VON 
FALLERSLEBEN 

(Thuringian  Folk  Tale  — Helpful  in  Nature  Study) 

In  the  beginning  of  things,  when  God  the  Father  created 
every  beast  of  the  forest  and  every  bird  and  tree  and  blossom, 
he  gave  each  one  a  name,  and  the  snowdrop,  the  lily,  the 
pansy,  the  violet,  and  all  the  other  flower  sisterhood  re- 
joiced and  were  glad,  for  each  thought  its  own  name  the 
loveliest  in  the  world.  Everywhere  in  field  and  woodland 
there  was  happiness,  and  the  blossoms  lifted  their  faces 
toward  heaven  in  gratitude,  thanking  the  Gracious  Giver. 

But  suddenly  there  was  a  sound  of  weeping.  Somewhere 
in  the  meadow  a  flower  had  raised  its  voice  in  sorrow,  and 
all  the  other  flowers  looked  to  see.  At  first  they  could  not 
tell  whence  the  sound  came,  then  they  beheld  a  tiny  blossom, 
with  petals  the  color  of  heaven  and  a  heart  the  color  of  gold. 
It  was  sobbing  bitterly,  and  the  lily,  looking  down  in  pity, 
asked,  "Why  weepest  thou?" 

"Alas,"  came  the  reply,  "I  have  forgotten  my  name." 

Then  —  wonderful  sound  —  the  primrose  and  the  violet  and 
the  pansy  heard  the  voice  of  God  the  Father,  for  although 
the  blossom  was  very  tiny  and  half  hidden  by  the  grasses  of 
the  field,  He  heard  and  saw  and  knew. 

"Forgotten  your  name?"     He  spake  in  tones  that  were 


Stories  for  Telling  227 

sweet  and  tender.  "Then  shalt  thou  be  called  'Forget-me- 
not,'  for  that  thou  canst  always  remember." 

"Forget-me-not,"  repeated  the  gorgeous  rose  and  the 
modest  violet,  and  the  tiny  one  smiled  through  its  tears  and 
said,  "Forget-me-not." 

And  ever  since  that  day  at  creation  time,  when  God  the 
Father  named  every  beast  of  the  forest  and  every  bird  and 
flower  and  tree,  the  wee  blossom  whose  petals  are  the  color 
of  heaven  and  whose  heart  is  the  color  of  gold,  has  been  called 
"Forget-me-not." 

THE  LITTLE  STEPMOTHER 

(Thuringian  Folk  Tale — Nature  Study) 

Once  upon  a  time,  say  the  peasants  of  the  Rhineland,  a 
woodman  lived  with  his  wife  and  two  daughters  in  a  little 
hut  in  the  forest.  They  were  very  poor,  but  what  mattered 
that,  since  they  were  very  happy  ? 

They  had  five  chairs,  —  one  apiece,  and  one  for  company, 
—  clean,  sweet  feather  beds  to  keep  them  warm  at  night,  a 
bit  of  soup  to  eat  with  their  black  bread,  and  once  each  year 
they  went  to  the  fair. 

But  after  a  time  the  mother  died,  and  things  were  different. 
The  father  took  another  wife,  who  had  two  children  of  her 
own,  and  she  was  very  unkind  to  her  husband's  little 
daughters.  She  forced  them  to  do  all  the  work,  and  if  the 
poor  woodman  so  much  as  opened  his  mouth  to  object,  she 
beat  him  with  her  slipper.  You  will  know  how  greedy  she 
was  when  I  tell  you  that  she  took  two  of  the  fine  wood  chairs 
for  her  own  children  and  kept  two  for  herself,  and  you  re- 
member there  were  only  five  in  the  hut.  That  left  one  for 
the  husband  and  his  daughters,  and  as  the  father  was  kind 
and  good,  he  let  them  have  it  all  to  themselves  and  patiently 
stood  while  he  ate  his  meals. 

For  a  long  time  that  greedy  little  stepmother  ruled  her 


228  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

husband  and  his  children  with  an  iron  hand,  while  her  own 
daughters  acted  like  spoiled  princesses,  until  one  night  some- 
thing happened.  The  hut  and  the  family  disappeared. 
Just  how  it  came  to  pass,  nobody  knows,  but  the  next  morn- 
ing the  other  woodmen  found  a  h'ttle  flower  growing  where 
the  house  had  stood,  and  they  knew  that  a  fairy  or  witch  or 
something  had  turned  the  family  into  the  blossom  which 
you  may  see  almost  any  summer  day.  The  greedy  step- 
mother still  sits  on  her  two  chairs,  with  her  children  on  each 
side  of  her  holding  a  chair  apiece.  The  woodman's  h'ttle 
daughters  are  crowded  together  on  one,  just  as  they  were  in 
the  hut.  And  what  of  the  poor  henpecked  husband,  who 
did  not  dare  to  object  to  anything  his  spouse  chose  to  do? 
Look  in  the  center,  right  under  her  slipper,  and  you  will 
find  what  most  people  say  is  the  pistil.  But  the  peasants 
of  the  Rhineland  know  better.  It  is  the  woodman,  who 
once  upon  a  time  lived  in  the  hut  in  the  forest,  and  the  flower 
you  call  the  pansy  is  to  them  "The  Little  Stepmother." 


THE  RABBIT  AND  THE  EASTER  EGGS 

(Bavarian  Folk  Tale) 

Once,  in  the  German  land  of  Bavaria,  there  was  a  mother 
who  was  very  poor.  She  was  sad  as  Easter  time  drew  near, 
for  it  was  the  custom  in  that  land  to  give  presents  then  just 
as  we  do  at  Christmas,  and  she  had  nothing  for  her  children. 
She  grieved  about  it  day  and  night,  and  one  day  was  so  un- 
happy over  it  that  she  wept. 

"Never  fear,"  the  old  grandmother  said,  "the  hens  are 
laying  well,  and  I  know  how  to  make  beautiful  dyes  from 
moss  and  leaves.  We  can  color  some  eggs  for  Hans  and 
Annchen,  and  they  will  be  happy."  , 

This  was  a  lovely  thought  to  the  poor  mother,  and  she 
went  to  work.  Soon  she  had  beautiful  red,  blue,  yellow, 


Stories  for  Telling  229 

purple,  and  orange  eggs,  and  when  Easter  morning  came 
she  and  the  grandmother  hid  them  in  a  nest  in  the  woods. 
It  was  a  lovely  spot,  with  a  thick  carpet  of  moss  underfoot 
and  the  snowy  blossoms  of  the  wild  plum  overhead. 

Then  they  all  went  to  the  tiny  chapel  that  stood  at  the 
other  side  of  the  village,  to  listen  to  the  music  and  hear  the 
good  pastor  tell  the  story  of  Easter  day,  after  which  they 
walked  home  by  the  woodland  path. 

Little  Hans  and  Annchen  were  running  ahead  of  the  others, 
and  all  at  once  they  called,  "Oh,  Mother,  Grandmother, 
come!" 

The  good  mother  said,  "They  must  have  found  the  eggs," 
and  hurried  to  see. 

Yes,  there  the  children  knelt,  bending  over  the  nest  of 
eggs  lovelier  than  they  had  ever  seen. 

"They  are  beautiful,  Mother!"  exclaimed  Hans.  "See, 
they  look  like  hen's  eggs,  yet  they  are  every  color,  like  the 
rainbow.  How  did  they  get  here  in  the  woods?" 

" I  know,"  cried  little  Annchen.     "A  fairy  bird  laid  them." 

Just  then  a  rabbit  leaped  out  of  some  tall  grass  behind 
the  nest,  and  hopped  away  into  the  forest. 

The  children  screamed  with  delight.  "The  rabbit  laid 
the  eggs!  The  rabbit  laid  the  eggs !"  they  shouted. 

And  ever  since  that  time  Bavarian  children  have  played 
that  rabbits  lay  Easter  eggs. 


THE  EASTER  EGGS 

ADAPTED  FROM  STORY  BY  CANON  SCHMIDT 

(Ethics) 

During  the  days  of  the  Crusades  a  little  village  stood  in  the 
heart  of  a  little  valley.  The  people  living  there  were  very 
poor,  but  so  good  and  gentle  that  despite  their  poverty  they 
were  happier  than  many  of  the  great  folk  of  the  realm.  They 


230  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

had  none  of  the  cares  that  trouble  the  rich.  Their  rude 
black  huts,  each  with  its  tiny  garden  plot  and  bit  of  meadow 
land  where  they  pastured  the  cow  or  goats,  satisfied  them 
because  they  knew  nothing  else,  and  they  lived  so  simply 
and  healthfully  that  there  were  men  over  a  hundred  years 
of  age  among  them.  Sometimes  they  burned  charcoal  for 
the  iron  works  in  the  mountains  and  earned  a  few  pennies, 
when  they  felt  rich  indeed,  but  if  there  was  no  money  they 
did  not  complain.  They  ate  their  vegetables  and  black 
bread  and  drank  their  goat's  milk  in  contentment. 

One  day,  when  the  corn  ears  were  yellowing,  a  little  girl 
hurried  down  the  mountain  side  where  she  had  been  tending 
goats.  She  ran  to  her  home  at  the  edge  of  the  village,  and 
called  to  her  mother  in  the  garden,  "  Oh,  mamma,  come 
quickly!  A  beautiful  woman  with  two  pretty  children  is 
waiting  for  me  on  the  mountain.  They  are  very  tired  and 
hungry,  and  she  asked  me  for  some  bread  and  milk." 

Kind  hearts  beat  in  the  breasts  of  those  village  folk,  and 
although  they  had  little  themselves,  they  were  always  ready 
to  share  their  small  store.  Quickly  the  mother  filled  a  jar 
with  goat's  milk  and  took  some  bread,  butter,  and  cheese, 
and  she  and  her  husband  followed  the  little  daughter  up  the 
mountain  side.  After  a  while  they  came  to  a  turn  in  the 
path,  and  saw  a  woman,  very  young  and  very  beautiful, 
sitting  on  a  rock  under  a  beech  tree.  She  was  holding  a 
little  girl  who  was  as  lovely  as  herself,  and  beside  them,  on 
the  ground,  a  tiny  dark-eyed  boy  played  with  a  bunch  of 
thistles.  Not  far  away  an  old  man  was  unloading  a  mule 
and  opening  bundles  as  if  preparing  to  camp  for  the  night. 
Their  clothing  was  of  the  costly  kind  that  is  worn  only  by 
the  very  rich,  and  it  seemed  strange  that  they  should  be 
asking  food  of  the  poor. 

The  village  wife  offered  the  bread,  butter,  and  cheese 
she  had  brought  with  her,  which  the  woman  received  with 
smiles  and  words  of  thanks.  She  kept  nothing  herself,  but 


Stories  for  Telling  231 

gave  all  to  the  old  man  and  children,  who  ate  the  coarse 
peasant  fare  as  if  it  tasted  very  good,  and  as  she  watched 
them  tears  streamed  down  her  cheeks.  She  asked  many 
questions  about  the  valley,  and  finding  that  no  one  but 
charcoal  burners  lived  there,  and  that  strangers  almost  never 
came  by,  exclaimed,  "  I  think  God  must  have  sent  me  here. 
I  have  been  driven  from  home  and  am  seeking  a  spot  where 
we  may  rest  in  peace." 

They  went  down  to  the  valley  together,  and  the  peasant 
and  his  wife  led  the  way  to  a  vacant  house,  which  the  woman 
rented  for  her  home.  It  was  a  very  humble  cottage,  but  she 
said  it  suited  her,  for  it  was  new  and  clean,  and  from  its  little 
windows  one  could  see  out  over  the  cabins  and  the  garden 
plots  to  the  tall,  dark,  fir  trees  on  the  mountain  slopes.  She 
took  one  of  the  village  girls  for  a  servant,  and  the  worn,  un- 
happy look  began  to  leave  her  face. 

Early  the  next  morning  she  called  the  maid  Marie,  gave 
her  a  silver  piece,  and  said,  "  Go  and  get  some  eggs  for  break- 
fast." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  madame!"  she  asked  sorrowfully,  "do  you  mean 
that  I  must  take  the  eggs  of  the  dear  little  birds  that  sing 
in  the  forest?" 

"Of  course  not,"  her  mistress  replied,  thinking  her  very 
silly,  "I  want  hen's  eggs,  not  bird's  eggs." 

But  Marie  looked  more  amazed  than  before. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  '  hens,' "  she  said.  "  We 
have  none  of  them  here." 

"You  have  no  hens !"  the  woman  exclaimed.  "How  can 
that  be?" 

Then  she  remembered  that  this  was  a  village  of  poor 
peasants  and  that  only  the  rich  had  chickens,  because  they 
had  just  been  brought  to  Europe  from  Asia,  and  were  very 
costly.  So  she  bade  the  old  man  Kuno  go  to  the  city  across 
the  mountains  and  bring  her  everything  she  needed. 


232  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"And  be  sure  not  to  forget  the  cock  and  hens,"  she  called 
after  him  as  he  rode  away. 

Late  that  afternoon  the  man  returned,  and  the  woman 
met  him  at  the  door.  "Have  you  brought  the  chickens?" 
she  asked. 

Nodding  in  reply,  he  set  the  cage  on  the  ground. 

By  this  time  the  village  children  had  gathered  around,  and 
were  greatly  excited  about  the  strange-looking  birds.  They 
laughed  and  clapped  their  hands,  for  they  never  had  seen 
anything  like  them,  and  when  Kuno  turned  them  out  of  the 
cage  and  they  walked  around  picking  up  the  grain  he  threw 
to  them,  their  joy  knew  no  bounds.  Then  the  cock  flapped 
his  wings  and  crowed  and  some  of  the  hens  cackled,  and  the 
children  danced  and  screamed  in  delight.  They  stayed 
until  it  was  dark,  and  early  the  next  morning  came  again 
and  brought  their  fathers  and  mothers  to  see  the  wonderful 
birds  that  sang  such  curious  songs. 

Summer  passed  and  autumn  came.  The  last  apples  fell 
from  the  trees,  nuts  dropped  in  the  frost-painted  forest,  and 
the  sharp  winds  of  November  blew  down  from  the  peaks, 
yet  still  the  lovely  stranger  and  her  children  stayed  in  the 
village.  That  was  very  strange,  for  the  valley  was  entirely 
surrounded  by  rugged  mountains,  and  was  a  rough,  wild 
country  in  winter,  when  the  tiny  houses  were  almost  buried 
in  the  snow.  But  they  seemed  happy  there,  and  the  people 
wondered  much  about  it.  They  talked  of  it  as  they  herded 
the  goats  on  the  slopes,  as  they  burned  charcoal  in  the  shadow 
of  the  fir  trees,  and  always  would  end  by  saying,  "  She  is  some 
great  lady,  for  she  speaks  the  language  of  court,  and  she 
and  her  children  have  costly  clothes  and  many  gold  pieces." 

But  they  found  out  nothing,  for  when  they  asked  the 
children  who  their  mother  was  they  said,  "  She  is  mamma, 
and  we  are  Blanche  and  Edmund." 

So  still  they  wondered  and  still  they  did  not  know.  But 
they  were  glad  she  lived  among  them,  because  they  had  grown 


Stories  for  Telling  233 

to  love  her  very  much.  She  was  kind  and  charitable  toward 
every  one  in  the  village.  She  gave  food  to  the  poor  and  took 
care  of  the  sick,  and  the  peasants  repaid  her  with  many 
kindnesses.  They  gave  her  game  they  killed  in  the  forest, 
and  when  spring  came  and  the  snow  melted,  the  village 
children  roamed  the  woods  for  the  earliest  violets  and  cow- 
slips, and  brought  them  to  her  door. 

These  acts  of  kindness  touched  her,  and  the  morning  be- 
fore Easter  she  thought,  "  I  must  do  something  to  make  them 
happy."  But  what  could  it  be?  She  couldn't  give  them  a 
feast,  because,  although  she  had  plenty  of  money,  it  was 
impossible  to  get  any  meat  in  the  village ;  and  she  couldn't 
give  them  presents,  because  there  was  no  place  to  buy  them. 
She  had  nothing  but  eggs,  which  she  thought  would  be  no 
treat  at  all.  Then  an  idea  came  to  her.  Calling  Marie, 
the  maid,  she  told  her  of  it  and  they  merrily  went  to  work. 

They  went  into  the  woods  and  gathered  roots,  moss,  and 
berries  such  as  were  used  for  dyeing  in  those  days.  They 
made  cakes  and  custards.  They  colored  eggs  red,  blue, 
green,  orange,  and  lilac,  and  planned  to  give  the  people  a 
grand  surprise.  Late  in  the  afternoon  little  Blanche  and 
Edmund  went  out  through  the  village  and  stopped  at  every 
house,  saying,  "Mamma  invites  you,  you  and  all  your  family, 
great  and  small,  to  a  feast  at  our  house  tomorrow.  Come 
after  the  mass." 

Everybody  accepted  the  invitation.  They  had  never 
been  to  a  real  feast,  and  to  go  to  one  at  the  house  of  the 
lovely  stranger  would  be  fine  indeed.  They  took  out  their 
best  holiday  attire,  polished  their  shoe  buckles  until  they 
shone,  and  made  ready  for  a  gala  time,  and  on  Easter  morn- 
ing a  line  of  men,  women,  and  children  went  from  the  chapel 
to  the  cottage  of  the  lady. 

She  met  them  at  the  door  and  led  them  into  the  garden, 
where  two  long  tables  were  spread.  The  parents  were  told 
to  sit  down,  but  she  said  to  the  children,  "It  is  not  time  for 


234  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

you  to  eat  yet.  Go  into  the  woods  with  Edmund  and 
Blanche,  and  make  little  nests  of  moss.  Put  them  under 
the  trees,  and  be  sure  to  remember  where  you  left  them." 

They  ran  out  laughing,  and  the  parents  sat  down  to  the 
feast,  and  a  splendid  feast  it  seemed  to  them !  There  were 
eggs  in  the  shell,  fried  eggs,  eggs  in  milk,  omelets,  and  sweet, 
yellow  custards,  and  as  they  never  had  tasted  eggs  before, 
they  thought  them  wonderfully  delicious. 

After  a  while  the  children  came  back  for  their  share  in  the 
good  things,  and  as  soon  as  they  had  finished  eating,  the 
woman  said,  "  Go  out  and  look  for  your  pretty  nests." 

A  rush  and  a  scramble  and  they  were  in  the  woods,  and  a 
moment  later  cries  of  delight  and  wonder  were  heard,  for  in 
each  nest  they  found  five  lovely  eggs  of  red,  blue,  green, 
purple,  and  orange.  They  came  pell-mell  to  show  them  to 
their  fathers  and  mothers,  who  discovered  something  written 
upon  them. 

It  was  a  motto,  and  the  villagers,  who  were  too  unlettered 
to  read  it,  asked  the  lady  to  tell  them  what  it  meant.  They 
smiled  as  they  listened,  as  if  believing  in  the  truth  of  the 
words  they  heard : 

In  God's  protecting  goodness  trust, 
For  He  will  aid  the  kind  and  just. 

The  afternoon  passed  joyously,  and  when  the  chapel  bell 
rang  out  the  Angelus,  the  villagers  departed,  and  the  woman 
stood  in  the  doorway  with  a  smile  upon  her  face,  watching 
them  go  to  their  homes.  While  she  watched,  a  youth  carry- 
ing a  bundle  came  walking  down  the  mountain  path.  He 
seemed  very  tired  and  sad,  and  tears  came  into  his  eyes  as 
she  called  to  him.  He  told  her  he  was  on  his  way  to  a  village 
beyond  to  see  his  mother,  who  was  old  and  sick,  and  that  he 
had  walked  a  long  way  without  food. 

"  I  have  a  little  money,"  he  said,  "but  must  not  spend  it 
for  myself,  because  it  is  needed  at  home." 


-Stories  for  Telling  235 

Touched  by  his  story,  the  woman  took  him  into  the  house, 
where  a  good  meal  was  set  before  him ;  and  as  he  was  about 
to  start  away,  she  gave  him  a  gold  piece  and  some  eggs  for 
his  little  brother  and  sister. 

Refreshed  by  rest  and  food  he  strode  on  his  way  through 
the  village,  took  the  path  that  led  to  the  other  side  of  the 
mountains,  and  after  a  while  came  to  the  edge  of  a  ravine. 
From  that  point  the  trail  was  narrow  and  dangerous,  and  he 
walked  rapidly  because  he  wanted  to  reach  home  before  night. 

But  suddenly  he  stopped.  Looking  down  to  where  a  tiny 
stream  wound  through  the  gulch,  he  saw  a  horse.  It  was 
saddled  and  bridled,  which  seemed  very  strange  to  him. 

"  I  wonder  if  some  one  has  fallen  and  needs  help,"  he 
murmured. 

So,  although  he  wanted  to  be  on  his  way,  he  climbed  down 
over  the  crags. 

It  was  as  he  feared.  A  man  was  lying  there,  motionless 
as  if  dead.  He  was  dressed  in  heavy  armor,  by  which  the 
lad  knew  he  was  some  one  rich  and  great. 

Pulling  off  the  helmet  to  use  as  a  dipper,  he  ran  to  the  river 
for  water,  and  poured  it  over  the  drawn,  white  face. 

The  rider  opened  his  eyes  slowly,  and  when  he  saw  the 
youth  kneeling  beside  him  said,  "Thank  God  for  sending 
you!  I  fell  down  over  the  cliffs,  and  thought  I  was  to  lie 
here  and  die.  Oh,  I  am  so  weak  and  faint  I"  he  sighed. 

The  peasant  boy  remembered  the  pretty  eggs  in  his  bundle 
that  were  intended  for  his  little  brother  and  sister  at  home. 
"  But  they  would  want  me  to  give  them  to  this  poor  fellow," 
he  thought.  So  he  shelled  one  and  held  it  to  the  trembling 
lips. 

The  man  ate  it  as  if  nearly  starved,  and  another  and  an- 
other. Then,  seeing  the  motto  on  the  one  that  was  still 
unbroken,  he  opened  his  eyes  wide. 

"Stop,"  he  said  as  the  boy  was  about  to  break  it.  "Let 
me  have  it  as  it  is  and  I  will  give  you  a  gold  piece  for  it." 


236  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Then  the  peasant  youth,  who  was  stalwart  and  strong, 
helped  him  on  to  his  horse,  and  led  him  to  his  own  village, 
where  the  doctor  said  he  must  lie  still  for  six  weeks.  He 
groaned  as  he  heard  those  words,  and  exclaimed,  "  Six  weeks, 
and  my  master  waiting  for  word  of  her ! " 

But  he  was  a  soldier,  and  knew  how  to  wait.  He  stayed 
patiently,  and  at  the  end  of  the  time  went  on  his  way. 

Meanwhile,  back  in  the  village  in  the  valley,  the  beautiful 
stranger  lived  on  with  her  children.  She  seemed  very  happy 
until  one  day  the  man  Kuno  went  to  the  city  across  the 
mountain,  and  returned  looking  pale  and  worried. 

"  Madame,"  he  said  as  she  met  him  at  the  door,  "I  have 
bad  news  for  you." 

She  turned  white,  as  if  some  terrible  thing  had  happened, 
took  him  into  the  house,  and  they  talked  together  for  a  long 
time.  Then  Kuno  left  the  cottage  and  hurried  through  the 
village  to  the  house  of  the  miller,  who  was  also  the  mayor. 

"  My  mistress  wishes  to  speak  to  you,"  he  said. 

The  man  went  back  with  him,  and  when  they  reached  the 
house,  the  woman  told  a  strange  story. 

"  I  am  Rosalinde,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy," 
she  said.  "In  my  father's  court  were  two  knights,  Hanno 
of  Schraffeneck  and  Arno  of  Lindenburg,  who  were  suitors 
for  my  hand.  I  chose  Arno,  and  Hanno  was  furiously  angry. 
He  vowed  he  would  have  revenge,  but  I  was  happy  with  my 
husband,  and  did  not  fear  him. 

"  All  went  well  for  a  long  time.  Then  the  emperor  sum- 
moned my  husband  to  go  on  the  Holy  Wars  to  Palestine,  and 
he  rode  away  with  the  Crusaders,  leaving  me  alone  with  the 
children.  Hanno,  too,  was  summoned  to  fight  the  Moslems, 
but  he  stayed  behind,  vowing  that  now  he  would  have  his 
revenge,  and  unless  I  married  him  he  would  put  me  into 
prison  and  kill  my  children. 

"  The  castle  of  my  lord  was  strong,  but  there  was  no  one 
to  defend  it  after  he  and  his  train  went  away,  and  Hanno 


Stories  for  Telling  237 

brought  many  men  and  began  a  siege.  My  good  Kimo, 
who  knew  a  secret  passage,  aided  me  to  escape  and  brought 
me  across  the  mountains  to  your  village,  where  I  have  felt 
safe.  But  today  he  saw  Hanno  in  the  city,  asking  people 
if  a  lady  with  two  children  and  an  old  domestic  had  passed 
that  way." 

She  stopped  a  moment  as  if  she  could  not  speak  for  tears, 
then  went  on  sadly,  "  Kuno  hid  and  was  not  seen,  but  I  fear 
that  when  Hanno  comes  through  the  valley,  the  people  will 
tell  him  I  am  here,  and  then  he  will  put  me  in  prison  and  kill 
my  children." 

The  miller  shook  his  head  and  spoke  words  of  comfort. 

"Have  no  fear,  madame,"  he  said.  "The  villagers  will 
not  tell  that  you  are  here,  and  if  Hanno  comes  and  tries  to 
take  you,  we  will  defend  you  with  our  lives." 

Then  he  went  from  house  to  house,  telling  the  story  of  the 
Lady  Rosalinde.  Soon  every  one  in  the  village  knew  it  and 
the  people  swore  to  protect  her  at  any  cost,  and  the  next 
day  when  Hanno  came,  they  pretended  to  be  so  stupid  that 
they  didn't  know  what  he  was  talking  about. 

"  She  has  not  been  here,"  he  said  to  his  men.  And  they 
went  away. 

After  that  all  was  peaceful  in  the  village,  and  the  Lady 
Rosalinde  was  no  longer  afraid.  Her  children  played  with 
the  charcoal  burners'  children,  and  every  evening  they  went 
to  the  little  chapel  at  the  edge  of  the  forest  to  pray  for  the 
safe  return  of  the  husband  and  father  from  Palestine. 

One  lovely  evening  in  the  month  of  May,  they  went  to 
the  church  as  usual,  and  when  they  came  out,  sat  down  on 
some  rocks  to  watch  the  sun  sink  behind  the  mountain.  A 
pilgrim  came  by,  bending  low  over  a  staff,  his  long  white 
hair  reaching  his  shoulders  and  his  beard  flowing  down  over 
his  breast.  He  noticed  the  children  and  spoke  to  them,  and 
little  Edmund  said,  "We  have  just  been  to  church  to  pray 
for  our  dear  papa." 


238  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  Lady  Rosalinde  was  terribly  frightened,  for  she  thought 
he  might  be  some  one  who  would  carry  word  to  Hanno,  but 
a  moment  later  her  fear  turned  to  joy,  for  the  pilgrim  snatched 
off  his  beard  and  white  hair,  and  a  young,  handsome  knight 
stood  before  them.  Little  Blanche  and  Edmund  screamed 
in  delight,  for  they  knew  it  was  their  father. 

"  How  did  you  find  us  ?  "  Lady  Rosalinde  asked. 

"I  found  you,  my  dear  Rosalinde,  because  you  were  good 
and  charitable." 

Then  he  told  how  he  had  returned  from  the  Crusades  to 
a  ruined  castle. 

"I  questioned  the  peasants  around,  who  said  Hanno  had 
besieged  it,  and  that  you  and  the  children  had  escaped. 
Then  I  led  my  train  against  him  and  took  him  prisoner,  and 
sent  out  horsemen  to  find  word  of  you.  It  seemed  they 
would  never  come  back,  and  when  they  did  my  heart  almost 
broke,  for  although  they  had  scoured  the  land  they  had  no 
news.  There  was  one,  however,  who  did  not  return,  and 
thinking  he  had  been  killed,  I  gave  up  hope.  But  six  weeks 
later  he  came  with  a  strange  story,  and  gave  me  a  colored 
egg,  and  imagine  my  joy,  to  find  upon  it  in  your  own  hand- 
writing, the  motto  of  my  house : 

"  In  God's  protecting  goodness  trust, 
For  He  will  aid  the  kind  and  just." 

Then,  continuing  the  story,  Lord  Arno  told  how  he  had 
gone  in  the  guise  of  a  pilgrim  to  the  home  of  the  peasant 
from  whom  the  cavalier  received  the  egg,  and  learning  that 
his  wife  and  children  were  in  the  valley,  had  come  seeking 
them. 

Word  that  the  lovely  woman  had  been  found  by  her  hus- 
band soon  traveled  throughout  the  village,  and  the  people, 
young  and  old,  came  to  welcome  him. 

He  was  a  true  and  valiant  knight  and  thanked  them  for 
their  kindness  to  his  loved  ones,  for  the  Lady  Rosalinde  had 


Stories  for  Telling  239 

told  him  of  her  stay  in  the  valley,  and  of  how  good  and  gentle 
the  peasants  were. 

"And  now,  my  dear  friends,"  he  said,  "to  show  you  how 
grateful  I  am,  I  promise  to  give  a  fine,  big  cow  to  every 
family  in  the  village.  And  every  year  at  Easter  time,  my 
wife  and  I  will  send  colored  eggs  to  the  children,  not  only 
to  those  of  this  valley,  but  to  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  realm." 

Then  Lord  Arno  and  his  family  departed,  rebuilt  their 
ruined  castle,  and  lived  happily  there.  But  they  never  for- 
got the  charcoal  burners  in  the  valley,  and  every  year  sent 
quantities  of  gay  eggs  to  the  children.  As  years  passed 
the  custom  spread  from  country  to  country,  until  now 
colored  eggs  are  given  at  Easter  time  to  children  in  every 
Christian  land. 


PRINCE  UNEXPECTED 

FROM  THE  POLISH  OF  GLINSKI 

(Slavic  Wonder  Tale) 

There  were  a  king  and  a  queen  who  had  been  married  for 
three  years,  but  had  no  children,  at  which  they  were  both 
much  distressed.  Once  upon  a  time  the  king  found  him- 
self obliged  to  make  a  visit  of  inspection  round  his  dominions ; 
he  took  leave  of  his  queen,  set  off,  and  was  not  at  home  for 
eight  months. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  ninth  month  the  king  returned 
from  his  progress  through  his  country,  and  was  already  hard 
by  his  capital  city,  when,  as  he  journeyed  over  an  unin- 
habited plain  during  the  most  scorching  heat  of  summer,  he 
felt  such  excessive  thirst  that  he  sent  his  servants  round 
about  to  see  if  they  could  find  water  anywhere  and  let  him 
know  of  it  at  once.  The  servants  dispersed  in  various  direc- 
tions, sought  in  vain  for  a  whole  hour,  and  returned  without 
success  to  the  king. 


240  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  thirst-tormented  king  proceeded  to  traverse  the 
whole  plain  far  and  wide  himself,  not  believing  that  there 
was  not  a  spring  somewhere  or  other ;  on  he  rode,  and  on  a 
level  spot,  on  which  there  had  not  previously  been  any 
water,  he  espied  a  well  with  a  new  wooden  fence  round  it, 
full  to  the  brim  with  spring  water,  in  the  midst  of  which 
floated  a  silver  cup  with  a  golden  handle.  The  king  sprang 
from  his  horse  and  reached  after  the  cup  with  his  right  hand ; 
but  the  cup,  just  as  if  it  were  alive  and  had  eyes,  darted 
quickly  on  one  side  and  floated  again  by  itself.  The  king 
knelt  down  and  began  to  try  to  catch  it,  now  with  his  right 
hand,  now  with  his  left,  but  it  moved  and  dodged  away  in 
such  a  manner  that,  not  being  able  to  seize  it  with  one  hand, 
he  tried  to  catch  it  with  both.  But  scarcely  had  he  reached 
out  with  both  hands  when  the  cup  dived  like  a  fish,  and 
floated  again  on  the  surface. 

"Hang  it!"  thought  the  king,  "I  can't  help  myself  with 
the  cup,  I'll  manage  without  it."  He  then  bent  down  to 
the  water,  which  was  as  clear  as  crystal  and  as  cold  as  ice, 
and  began  in  his  thirst  to  drink.  Meanwhile  his  long  beard, 
which  reached  down  to  his  girdle,  dipped  into  the  water. 
When  he  had  quenched  his  thirst  and  wished  to  get  up 
again,  something  was  holding  his  beard  and  would  not  let 
it  go.  He  pulled  once  and  again,  but  it  was  of  no  use ;  he 
cried  out  therefore  in  anger,  "Who's  there?  Let  go!" 

"It's  I,  the  subterranean  king,  immortal  Bony,  and  I 
shall  not  let  go  till  you  give  me  that  which  you  left  unknow- 
ingly at  home,  and  which  you  do  not  expect  to  find  on  your 
return." 

The  king  looked  into  the  depth  of  the  well,  and  there  was 
a  huge  head  like  a  tub,  with  green  eyes  and  a  mouth  from 
ear  to  ear ;  the  creature  was  holding  the  king  by  the  beard 
with  extended  claws  like  those  of  a  crab,  and  was  laughing 
mischievously. 

The  king  thought  that  a  thing  of  which  he  had  not  known 


Stories  for  Telling  241 

before  starting,  and  which  he  did  not  expect  on  his  return, 
could  not  be  of  great  value ;  so  he  said  to  the  apparition, 
"I  give  it." 

The  apparition  burst  with  laughter  and  vanished  with  a 
flash  of  fire,  and  with  it  vanished  also  the  well,  the  water, 
the  wooden  fence,  and  the  cup ;  and  the  king  was  again  on 
a  hillock  by  a  little  wood  kneeling  on  dry  sand,  and  there 
was  nothing  more.  The  king  got  up,  crossed  himself,  sprang 
on  his  horse,  hastened  to  his  attendants,  and  rode  on. 

In  a  week  or  maybe  a  fortnight  the  king  arrived  at  his 
capital;  the  people  came  out  in  crowds  to  meet  him;  he 
went  in  procession  to  the  great  court  of  the  palace  and  entered 
the  corridor.  In  the  corridor  stood  the  queen  awaiting  him, 
and  holding  close  to  her  bosom  a  cushion,  on  which  lay  a 
child,  beautiful  as  the  moon,  kicking  in  swaddling  clothes. 
The  king  recollected  himself,  sighed  painfully,  and  said  within 
himself:  "This  is  what  I  left  without  knowing  and  found 
without  expecting!"  And  bitterly,  bitterly  did  he  weep. 
All  marveled,  but  nobody  dared  to  ask  the  cause.  The 
king,  without  saying  a  word,  took  his  son  in  his  arms,  gazed 
long  on  his  innocent  face,  carried  him  into  the  palace  himself, 
laid  him  in  the  cradle,  and,  suppressing  his  sorrow,  devoted 
himself  to  the  government  of  his  realm ;  but  he  was  never 
again  cheerful  as  formerly,  since  he  was  perpetually  tor- 
mented by  the  thought  that  some  day  Bony  would  claim  his 
son. 

Meanwhile  weeks,  months,  and  years  flowed  on,  and  no 
one  came  for  his  son.  The  prince,  named  "Unexpected," 
grew  and  developed,  and  eventually  became  a  handsome 
youth.  The  king  also  in  course  of  time  regained  his  usual 
cheerfulness,  and  forgot  what  had  taken  place;  but  alas  I 
everybody  did  not  forget  so  easily. 

Once  the  prince,  while  hunting  in  a  forest,  became  sepa- 
rated from  his  suite  and  found  himself  in  a  savage  wilderness. 
Suddenly  there  appeared  before  him  a  hideous  old  man  with 


242  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

green  eyes,  who  said,  "How  do  you  do,  Prince  Unexpected? 
You  have  made  me  wait  for  you  a  long  time." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"That  you  will  find  out  hereafter,  but  now,  when  you 
return  to  your  father,  greet  him  from  me,  and  tell  him  that 
I  should  be  glad  if  he  would  close  accounts  with  me,  for  if 
he  doesn't  soon  get  out  of  my  debt  of  himself,  he  will  repent 
it  bitterly."  After  saying  this  the  hideous  old  man  dis- 
appeared, and  the  prince  in  amazement  turned  his  horse, 
rode  home,  and  told  the  king  his  adventure. 

The  king  turned  as  pale  as  a  sheet,  and  revealed  the 
frightful  secret  to  his  son.  "Do  not  weep,  father!"  replied 
the  prince,  "it  is  no  great  misfortune!  I  shall  manage  to 
force  Bony  to  renounce  the  right  over  me,  which  he  tricked 
you  out  of  in  so  underhand  a  manner,  but  if  in  the  course 
of  a  year  I  do  not  return,  it  will  be  a  token  that  we  shall  see 
each  other  no  more." 

The  prince  prepared  for  his  journey ;  the  king  gave  him  a 
suit  of  steel  armor,  a  sword,  and  a  horse,  and  the  queen  hung 
round  his  neck  a  cross  of  pure  gold.  At  leave-taking  they  em- 
braced affectionately,  wept  heartily,  and  the  prince  rode  off. 

On  he  rode  one  day,  two  days,  three  days,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  fourth  day  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  he  came  to 
the  shore  of  the  sea;  and  in  the  selfsame  bay  he  espied 
twelve  dresses,  white  as  snow,  though  in  the  water,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach,  there  was  no  living  soul  to  be  seen  — 
only  twelve  white  geese  were  swimming  at  a  distance  from 
the  shore.  Curious  to  know  to  whom  they  belonged,  he 
took  one  of  the  dresses,  let  his  horse  loose  in  a  meadow, 
concealed  himself  in  a  neighboring  thicket,  and  waited  to 
see  what  would  come  to  pass.  Thereupon  the  geese,  after 
disporting  themselves  on  the  sea,  swam  to  the  shore.  Eleven 
of  them  went  to  the  dresses,  each  threw  herself  on  the 
ground  and  became  a  beautiful  damsel,  dressed  herself  with 
speed,  and  flew  away  into  the  plain. 


Stories  for  Telling  243 

The  twelfth  goose,  the  last  and  prettiest  of  all,  did  not 
venture  to  come  out  on  the  shore,  but  only  wistfully  stretched 
out  her  neck,  looking  on  all  sides.  On  seeing  the  prince  she 
called  out  with  a  human  voice:  "Prince  Unexpected,  give 
me  my  dress;  I  will  be  grateful  to  you  in  return."  The 
prince  hearkened  to  her,  placed  the  dress  on  the  grass,  and 
modestly  turned  away  in  another  direction. 

The  goose  came  out  on  the  grass,  changed  herself  into  a 
damsel,  dressed  herself  hastily,  and  stood  before  the  prince ; 
she  was  young  and  more  beautiful  than  eye  had  seen  or 
ear  heard  of.  Blushing,  she  gave  him  her  white  hand,  and, 
casting  her  eyes  down,  said  with  a  pleasing  voice :  "I  thank 
you,  good  prince,  for  hearkening  to  me.  I  am  the  youngest 
daughter  of  immortal  Bony.  He  has  twelve  young  daugh- 
ters, and  rules  in  the  subterranean  realm.  My  father, 
prince,  has  long  been  expecting  you  and  is  very  angry. 
However,  don't  grieve,  and  don't  be  frightened,  but  do  as 
I  tell  you.  As  soon  as  you  see  King  Bony,  fall  at  once  on 
your  knees,  and  paying  no  regard  to  his  outcry,  upbraiding, 
and  threats,  approach  him  boldly.  What  will  happen  after- 
wards you  will  learn,  but  now  we  must  part." 

On  saying  this  the  princess  stamped  on  the  ground  with 
her  little  foot;  the  ground  sprang  open  at  once,  and  they 
descended  into  the  subterranean  realm,  right  into  Bony's 
palace,  which  shone  all  underground  brighter  than  our  sun. 
The  prince  stepped  boldly  into  the  reception  room.  Bony 
was  sitting  on  a  golden  throne  with  a  glittering  crown  on 
his  head ;  his  eyes  gleamed  like  two  saucers  of  green  glass 
and  his  hands  were  like  the  nippers  of  a  crab.  As  soon  as 
the  prince  espied  him  at  a  distance,  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
Bony  yelled  so  horribly  that  the  vaults  of  the  subterranean 
dominion  quaked ;  but  the  prince  boldly  moved  on  his  knees 
towards  the  throne,  and  when  he  was  only  a  few  paces  from 
it,  the  king  smiled  and  said:  "Thou  hast  marvelous  luck 
in  succeeding  in  making  me  smile;  remain  in  our  subter- 


244  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ranean  realm,  but  before  thou  becomest  a  true  citizen  thereof 
thou  art  bound  to  execute  three  commands  of  mine;  but 
because  it  is  late  today,  we  will  begin  tomorrow  ;  meanwhile 
go  to  thy  room." 

The  prince  slept  comfortably  in  the  room  assigned  to  him, 
and  early  on  the  morrow  Bony  summoned  him  and  said: 
"We  will  see,  prince,  what  thou  canst  do.  In  the  course  of 
the  following  night  build  me  a  palace  of  pure  marble ;  let 
the  windows  be  of  crystal,  the  roof  of  gold,  an  elegant  garden 
round  about  it,  and  in  the  garden  seats  and  fountains;  if 
thou  buildest  it,  thou  wilt  gain  thyself  my  love ;  if  not,  I 
shall  command  thy  head  to  be  cut  off." 

The  prince  heard  the  command,  returned  to  his  apart- 
ment, and  was  sitting  mournfully  thinking  of  the  death 
that  threatened  him,  when  outside  at  the  window  a  bee 
came  buzzing  and  said,  "Let  me  in!"  He  opened  the 
lattice,  in  flew  the  bee,  and  the  princess,  Bony's  youngest 
daughter,  appeared  before  the  wondering  prince. 

"What  are  you  thus  thinking  about,  Prince  Unexpected  ? " 

"Alas !  I  am  thinking  that  your  father  wishes  to  deprive 
me  of  life."  • 

"Don't  be  afraid!  Lie  down  to  sleep,  and  when  you  get 
up  tomorrow  morning  your  palace  will  be  ready." 

So,  too,  it  came  to  pass.  At  dawn  the  prince  came  out 
of  his  room  and  espied  a  more  beautiful  palace  than  he  had 
ever  seen,  and  Bony,  when  he  saw  it,  wondered,  and  would 
not  believe  his  own  eyes. 

"Well!  thou  hast  won  this  time,  and  now  thou  hast  my 
second  command.  I  shall  place  my  twelve  daughters  before 
thee  tomorrow ;  if  thou  dost  not  guess  which  of  them  is 
the  youngest,  thou  wilt  place  thy  head  beneath  the  ax." 

"I  unable  to  recognize  the  youngest  princess!"  said  the 
prince  in  his  room.  "What  difficulty  can  there  be  in  that ? " 

"This,"  answered  the  princess,  flying  into  the  room  in 
the  shape  of  a  bee,  "  that  if  I  don't  help  you,  you  won't  recog- 


Stories  for  Telling  245 

nize  me,  for  we  are  all  so  alike  that  even  our  father  distin- 
guishes us  only  by  our  dress." 

"What  am  I  to  do?" 

"What,  indeed!  That  will  be  the  youngest  over  whose 
right  eye  you  espy  a  lady  cow.  Only  look  well.  Adieu !" 

On  the  morrow  King  Bony  again  summoned  Prince  Un- 
expected. The  princesses  stood  in  a  row  side  by  side,  all 
dressed  alike  and  with  eyes  cast  down.  The  prince  looked 
and  marveled  how  alike  all  the  princesses  were;  he  went 
past  them  once,  twice  —  he  did  not  find  the  appointed 
token ;  the  third  time  he  saw  a  ladycow  over  the  eyebrow 
of  one,  and  cried  out:  "This  is  the  youngest  princess!" 

"  How  the  deuce  have  you  guessed  it  ?  "  said  Bony  angrily. 
"There  must  be  some  trickery  here.  I  must  deal  with  your 
lordship  differently.  In  three  hours  you  will  come  here 
again,  and  will  show  your  cleverness  in  my  presence.  I 
shall  light  a  straw,  and  you  will  stitch  a  pair  of  boots  before 
it  goes  out,  and  if  you  don't  do  it  you  will  perish." 

The  prince  returned  desponding  and  found  the  bee  already 
in  his  apartment.  "Why  pensive  again,  prince?" 

"How  shouldn't  I  be  pensive,  when  your  father  wants 
me  to  stitch  him  a  pair  of  boots,  for  what  sort  of  cobbler 
am  I?" 

"What  else  will  you  do?" 

"What  am  I  to  do?  I  shan't  stitch  the  boots,  and  I'm 
not  afraid  of  death  —  one  can  die  but  once !" 

"No,  prince,  you  shall  not  die !  I  will  endeavor  to  rescue 
you,  and  we  will  either  escape  together  or  perish  together  I 
We  must  flee  —  there's  nothing  else  to  be  done." 

Saying  this,  the  princess  spat  on  one  of  the  window 
panes,  and  the  spittle  immediately  froze.  She  then  went 
out  of  the  room  with  the  prince,  locked  the  door  after  her, 
and  threw  the  key  far  away.  Then,  taking  each  other  by 
the  hands,  they  ascended  rapidly,  and  in  a  moment  found 
themselves  on  the  very  spot  whence  they  had  descended 


246  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

into  the  subterranean  realm ;  there  was  the  selfsame  sea, 
the  selfsame  fresh  meadow,  and  in  the  meadow  cantered 
the  prince's  well-fed  horse,  who,  as  soon  as  he  descried  his 
rider,  came  galloping  straight  to  him.  The  prince  didn't 
stop  long  to  think,  but  sprang  on  his  horse,  the  princess 
seated  herself  behind  him,  and  off  they  set  as  swift  as  an  arrow. 

King  Bony  at  the  appointed  hour  did  not  wait  for  Prince 
Unexpected,  but  sent  to  ask  him  why  he  did  not  appear. 
Finding  the  door  locked,  the  servants  knocked  at  it  vigor- 
ously, and  the  spittle  answered  them  from  the  middle  of 
the  room  in  the  prince's  voice,  "Anon."  The  servants 
carried  this  answer  to  the  king;  he  waited,  waited,  no 
prince;  he  therefore  again  sent  the  same  servants,  who 
heard  the  same  answer:  "Anon!"  and  carried  what  they 
had  heard  to  the  king. 

"What's  this?  Does  he  mean  to  make  fun  of  me?" 
shouted  the  king  in  wrath.  "Go  at  once,  break  the  door 
open,  and  conduct  him  to  me!" 

The  servants  hurried  off,  broke  open  the  door,  and  rushed 
in.  What,  indeed?  There  was  nobody  there,  and  the 
spittle  on  the  pane  of  glass  was  splitting  with  laughter  at 
them.  Bony  all  but  burst  with  rage,  and  ordered  them  all 
to  start  off  hi  pursuit  of  the  prince,  threatening  them  with 
death  if  they  returned  empty-handed.  They  sprang  on 
horseback  and  hastened  away  after  the  prince  and  princess. 

Meanwhile  Prince  Unexpected  and  the  princess,  Bony's 
daughter,  were  hurrying  away  on  their  spirited  horse,  and 
amidst  their  rapid  flight  heard  "Tramp,  tramp,"  behind 
them.  The  prince  sprang  from  the  horse,  put  his  ear  to 
the  ground,  and  said,  "They  are  pursuing  us." 

"Then,"  said  the  princess,  "we  have  no  time  to  lose." 
Instantly  she  transformed  herself  into  a  river,  changed  the 
prince  into  a  bridge  and  the  horse  into  a  raven,  and  divided 
the  grand  highway  beyond  the  bridge  into  three  roads. 
Swiftly  on  the  fresh  track  hastened  the  pursuers,  came  to 


Stories  for  Telling  247 

the  bridge,  and  stood  stupefied;  they  saw  the  track  up  to 
the  bridge,  but  beyond  it  disappeared,  and  the  highway 
divided  into  three  roads.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done 
but  to  return,  and  they  came  with  naught.  Bony  shouted 
with  rage,  and  cried  out:  "A  bridge  and  a  river!  It  was 
they.  How  was  it  that  ye  did  not  guess  it?  Back,  and 
don't  return  without  them!"  The  pursuers  recommenced 
the  pursuit. 

"I  hear  'Tramp,  tramp!"  whispered  the  princess, 
Bony's  daughter,  affrightedly  to  Prince  Unexpected,  who 
sprang  from  the  saddle,  put  his  ear  to  the  ground,  and  re- 
plied: "They  are  making  haste,  and  are  not  far  off." 

That  instant  the  princess  and  prince,  and  with  them  also 
their  horse,  became  a  gloomy  forest,  in  which  there  were 
roads,  byroads,  and  footpaths  without  number,  and  on  one 
of  them  it  seemed  that  two  riders  were  hastening  on  a  horse. 
Following  the  fresh  track,  the  pursuers  came  up  to  the 
forest,  and  when  they  espied  the  fugitives  in  it,  they  hastened 
speedily  after  them.  On  and  on  hurried  the  pursuers,  see- 
ing continually  before  them  a  thick  forest,  a  wide  road,  and 
the  fugitives  on  it;  now,  now  they  thought  to  overtake 
them,  when  the  fugitives  and  the  thick  forest  suddenly 
vanished,  and  they  found  themselves  at  the  selfsame  place 
whence  they  had  started  in  pursuit.  They  returned,  there- 
fore, again  to  Bony  empty-handed. 

"A  horse,  a  horse!  I'll  go  myself!  they  won't  escape 
out  of  my  hands ! "  yelled  Bony,  foaming  at  the  mouth, 
and  started  in  pursuit. 

Again  the  princess  said  to  Prince  Unexpected:  "Me- 
thinks  they  are  pursuing  us,  and  this  time  it  is  Bony,  my 
father,  himself,  but  the  first  church  is  the  boundary  of  his 
dominion,  and  he  cannot  pursue  us  farther.  Give  me  your 
golden  cross." 

The  prince  took  off  his  affectionate  mother's  gift  and  gave 
it  to  the  princess,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  transformed 


248  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

into  a  church,  he  into  the  priest,  and  the  horse  into  the 
bell ;  and  that  instant  up  came  Bony. 

"Monk!"  Bony  asked  the  priest,  "hast  thou  not  seen 
some  travelers  on  horseback?" 

"Only  just  now  Prince  Unexpected  rode  this  way  with 
the  princess,  Bony's  daughter.  They  came  into  the  church, 
performed  their  devotions,  gave  money  for  a  mass  for  your 
good  health,  and  ordered  me  to  present  their  respects  to 
you  if  you  should  ride  this  way." 

Bony,  too,  returned  empty-handed.  But  Prince  Unex- 
pected rode  on  with  the  princess,  Bony's  daughter,  in  no 
further  fear  of  pursuit. 

They  rode  gently  on,  when  they  saw  before  them  a  beau- 
tiful town,  into  which  the  prince  felt  an  irresistible  longing 
to  go. 

"Prince,"  said  the  princess,  "don't  go;  my  heart  fore- 
bodes misfortune  there." 

"I'll  ride  there  for  only  a  short  time,  and  look  round  the 
town,  and  we'll  then  proceed  on  our  journey." 

"It's  easy  enough  to  ride  thither,  but  will  it  be  as  easy 
to  return?  Nevertheless,  as  you  absolutely  desire  it,  go, 
and  I  will  remain  here  in  the  form  of  a  white  stone  till  you 
return ;  be  circumspect,  my  beloved ;  the  king,  the  queen, 
and  the  princess,  their  daughter,  will  come  out  to  meet  you, 
and  with  them  will  be  a  beautiful  little  boy  —  don't  kiss 
him,  for,  if  you  do,  you  will  forget  me  at  once,  and  will 
never  set  eyes  on  me  more  in  the  world  —  I  shall  die  of 
despair.  I  will  wait  for  you  here  on  the  road  for  three 
days,  and  if  on  the  third  day  you  don't  return,  remember 
that  I  perish,  and  perish  all  through  you."  The  prince 
took  leave  and  rode  to  the  town,  and  the  princess  trans- 
formed herself  into  a  white  stone  and  remained  on  the  road. 

One  day  passed,  a  second  passed,  the  third  also  passed,  and 
nothing  was  seen  of  the  prince.  Poor  princess!  He  had 
not  obeyed  her  counsel;  in  the  town,  the  king,  the  queen, 


Stories  for  Telling  249 

and  the  princess  their  daughter  had  come  out  to  meet  him, 
and  with  them  walked  a  little  boy,  a  curly-headed  chatter- 
box, with  eyes  as  bright  as  stars.  The  child  rushed  straight 
into  the  prince's  arms,  who  was  so  captivated  by  the  beauty 
of  the  lad  that  he  forgot  everything  and  kissed  the  child 
affectionately.  That  moment  his  memory  was  darkened, 
and  he  utterly  forgot  the  princess,  Bony's  daughter. 

The  princess  lay  as  a  white  stone  by  the  wayside,  one 
day,  two  days,  and  when  the  third  day  passed  and  the 
prince  did  not  return  from  the  town,  she  transformed  her- 
self into  a  cornflower,  and  sprang  in  among  the  rye  by  the 
roadside.  "Here  I  shall  stay  by  the  roadside;  maybe  some 
passer-by  will  pull  me  up  or  trample  me  into  the  ground," 
said  she,  and  tears  like  dewdrops  glittered  on  the  azure  petals. 

Just  then  an  old  man  came  along  the  road,  espied  the  corn- 
flower in  the  rye  by  the  wayside,  was  captivated  by  its 
beauty,  extracted  it  carefully  from  the  ground,  carried  it 
into  his  dwelling,  set  it  in  a  flowerpot,  watered  it,  and  began 
to  tend  it  attentively.  But  —  0  marvel !  —  ever  since  the 
time  that  the  cornflower  was  brought  into  his  dwelling,  all 
kinds  of  wonders  began  to  happen  in  it.  Scarcely  was  the 
old  man  awake,  when  everything  in  the  house  was  already 
set  in  order,  nowhere  was  the  least  atom  of  dust  remaining. 
At  noon  he  came  home  —  dinner  was  all  ready,  the  table  set ; 
he  had  but  to  sit  down  and  eat  as  much  as  he  wanted.  The 
old  man  wondered  and  wondered,  till  at  last  terror  took 
possession  of  him,  and  he  betook  himself  for  advice  to  an 
old  witch  of  his  acquaintance  in  the  neighborhood. 

"Do  this,"  the  witch  advised  him:  "get  up  before  the 
first  morning  dawn,  before  the  cocks  crow  to  announce 
daylight,  and  notice  diligently  what  begins  to  stir  first  in 
the  house,  and  that  which  does  stir,  cover  with  this  napkin : 
what  will  happen  further,  you  will  see." 

The  old  man  did  not  close  his  eyes  the  whole  night,  and 
as  soon  as  the  first  gleam  appeared  and  things  began  to  be 


£50  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

visible  in  the  house,  he  saw  how  the  cornflower  suddenly 
moved  in  the  flowerpot,  sprang  out,  and  began  to  stir  about 
the  room ;  when  simultaneously  everything  began  to  put 
itself  in  its  place ;  the  dust  began  to  sweep  itself  clean  away, 
and  the  fire  kindled  itself  in  the  stove.  The  old  man  sprang 
cleverly  out  of  his  bed  and  placed  the  cloth  on  the  flower  as 
it  endeavored  to  escape,  when  lo!  the  flower  became  a 
beautiful  damsel  —  the  princess,  Bony's  daughter. 

"What  have  you  done?"  cried  the  princess.  "Why 
have  you  brought  life  back  to  me?  My  betrothed,  Prince 
Unexpected,  has  forgotten  me,  and  therefore  life  has  be- 
come distasteful  to  me." 

"Your  betrothed,  Prince  Unexpected,  is  going  to  be  married 
today ;  the  wedding  feast  is  ready,  and  the  guests  are  begin- 
ning to  assemble." 

The  princess  wept,  but  after  a  while  dried  her  tears, 
dressed  herself  in  frieze,  and  went  into  the  town  like  a 
village  girl.  She  came  to  the  royal  kitchen,  where  there 
was  great  noise  and  bustle.  She  went  up  to  the  clerk  of 
the  kitchen  with  humble  and  attractive  grace,  and  said  in  a 
sweet  voice:  "Dear  sir,  do  me  one  favor:  allow  me  to 
make  a  wedding  cake  for  Prince  Unexpected." 

Occupied  with  work,  the  first  impulse  of  the  clerk  of  the 
kitchen  was  to  give  the  girl  a  rebuff;  but  when  he  looked 
at  her,  the  words  died  on  his  lips  and  he  answered  kindly  : 
"Ah,  my  beauty  of  beauties!  do  what  you  will;  I  will 
hand  the  prince  your  cake  myself." 

The  cake  was  soon  baked,  and  all  the  invited  guests 
were  sitting  at  table.  The  clerk  of  the  kitchen  himself 
placed  a  huge  cake  on  a  silver  dish  before  the  prince ;  but 
scarce  had  the  prince  made  a  cut  in  the  side  of  it,  when  lo ! 
an  unheard-of  marvel  displayed  itself  in  the  presence  of  all. 
A  gray  torn-pigeon  and  a  white  hen-pigeon  came  out  of  the 
cake ;  the  torn-pigeon  walked  along  the  table,  and  the  hen- 
pigeon  walked  after  him,  cooing : 


Stories  for  Telling  251 

"Stay,  stay,  my  pigeonet,  oh  stay  I 
Don't  from  thy  true  love  flee  away ; 
My  faithless  lover  I  pursue, 
Prince  Unexpected  like  unto, 
Who  Bony's  daughter  did  betray." 

Scarcely  had  Prince  Unexpected  heard  this  cooing  of  the 
pigeon,  when  he  regained  his  lost  recollection,  bounced  from 
the  table,  rushed  to  the  door,  and  behind  the  door  the 
princess,  Bony's  daughter,  took  him  by  the  hand;  they 
went  together  down  the  corridor,  and  before  them  stood  a 
horse  saddled  and  bridled. 

Why  delay  ?  Prince  Unexpected  and  the  princess,  Bony's 
daughter,  sprang  on  the  horse,  started  on  the  road,  and  at 
last  arrived  happily  in  the  realm  of  Prince  Unexpected's 
father.  The  king  and  the  queen  received  them  with  joy 
and  merriment,  and  did  not  wait  long  before  they  prepared 
them  a  magnificent  wedding,  the  like  of  which  eye  never  saw 
and  ear  never  heard  of. 


THE  GREEDY  COBBLER 

(Welsh  Folk  Tale  —  Ethics,  teaching  contentment) 

Once  upon  a  time  a  Welsh  cobbler  carrying  a  hazel  wand 
was  walking  over  London  Bridge,  and  as  he  sauntered  along 
he  met  an  Englishman. 

"Ah,"  the  latter  exclaimed,  pointing  to  the  wand  the 
man  of  Cambria  used  as  a  cane,  "where  did  you  get  it?" 

"Where  did  I  get  it?"  the  Welshman  repeated,  amazed 
that  any  one  should  ask  such  a  question.  "Off  of  a  hazel 
bush,  to  be  sure." 

But  the  stranger  stared  in  big-eyed  wonder  and  shook  hig 
head. 

"There  is  only  one  hazel  bush  of  that  kind  in  all  the 
world,"  he  declared,  "and  under  it  a  vast  treasure  is  hidden. 
Lead  me  to  the  spot,  and  I  will  share  it  with  you." 


252  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  Welshman  smiled  pleasantly,  for  he  began  to  have 
visions  of  a  luxurious,  idle  life.  He  hated  to  work,  and  was 
always  grumbling  because  he  had  to  hammer  away  at  shoe 
lasts  to  make  his  living. 

To  be  sure  he  would  lead  the  Englishman  to  the  spot,  and 
once  he  had  some  gold  in  his  possession,  he'd  do  nothing  but 
feast  and  ride  in  a  coach  and  dance  at  the  fair.  So  he  said 
quite  wearily,  lest  the  stranger  think  he  seemed  too  eager 
and  change  his  mind,  "It  is  a  long  way  from  here,  in  the 
Vale  of  Neath  in  my  native  Wales,  and  by  my  faith  I  have 
no  desire  to  walk  that  distance." 

But  the  Englishman  coaxed,  which  was  just  what  the 
Welshman  wanted  him  to  do.  So  they  turned  away  from 
London  Bridge  and  journeyed  northward  across  mountains 
and  valleys,  until  they  came  to  Cambria. 

After  several  days  they  came  to  Craig-i-Ddinas,  in  the 
lovely  Vale  of  Neath.  The  Welshman  led  the  way  to  the 
hazel  bush,  beside  which  he  had  often  played  when  a  boy, 
and  the  Englishman  said,  "In  due  time  we  will  begin 
work." 

When  darkness  was  heavy  enough  to  cover  all  trace  of 
what  they  did,  they  dug  up  the  bush,  and  the  Englishman, 
who  happened  to  be  a  wizard,  pointed  to  a  broad  stone  under 
the  roots  and  said,  "Below  is  the  treasure.  Do  as  I  bid 
and  you  shall  be  rich." 

And  the  Welshman  began  to  feel  very  important,  thinking 
how  people  would  honor  him  when  he  lived  in  a  great  house 
and  wore  a  velvet  coat. 

Then  the  cock  crowed  for  dawn,  and  they  knew  they  must 
hurry  away  before  any  of  the  peasants  saw  them.  The 
Welshman  did  not  wish  his  village  cousins  to  know  he  was 
there,  for  they  would  question  why  he  had  come ;  so  they 
found  a  vacant  tinker's  hut  in  which  to  rest  until  darkness 
made  it  safe  for  them  to  go  to  work  again. 

But  the  cobbler  was  too  excited  to  sleep.    The  sight  of 


Stories  for  Telling  253 

the  broad,  flat  stone  at  the  root  of  the  hazel  bush  brought 
back  to  his  mind  a  story  he  had  often  heard,  one  that  the 
village  grandmothers  used  to  tell  when  he  was  a  boy.  Again 
and  again  he  thought  of  it,  the  story  of  the  treasure  of  King 
Arthur. 

Historians  state  that  when  the  ruler  of  Camelot  was 
killed  in  the  battle  of  Mount  Badon,  he  was  buried  at 
Glastonbury,  but  the  Welsh  country  folk  say  that  is  not 
true.  They  declare  Merlin  carried  him  straight  to  the  lovely 
Vale  of  Neath,  where  he  sleeps  on  his  arms,  with  his  Round 
Table  Knights  beside  him  and  all  the  wealth  of  his  realm 
piled  at  his  feet.  There  he  and  his  warriors  will  rest  until 
the  ringing  of  a  warning  bell,  when  the  Black  and  Golden 
Eagles  go  to  war.  Then  they  will  rise  up  and  destroy  every 
enemy  of  Cambria,  when  Britain  will  be  governed  with 
justice  and  peace  will  reign  as  long  as  the  world  endures. 
Could  it  be  that  the  broad  stone  at  the  foot  of  the  hazel 
tree  covered  the  entrance  to  Arthur's  cave?  This  the 
Welshman  pondered  until  it  was  almost  dark  and  time  to 
go  to  work  again. 

Cautiously  they  left  the  hut  and  approached  the  spot, 
peering  in  every  direction  lest  some  one  see  and  question 
them.  Sturdily  they  pulled  and  tugged  at  the  rock,  and 
slowly,  steadily  moved  it,  until  they  found  an  opening  like 
a  door.  Then  the  Englishman  said  in  a  low  tone,  "Behold 
King  Arthur's  cave!  Follow  me  and  obey." 

The  Welshman  followed,  and  a  wonderful  sight  met  his 
eyes.  Thousands  of  warriors  slept  in  a  circle  on  their  arms, 
and  in  the  midst  of  them,  more  splendid  looking  than  any 
other,  lay  the  King  of  Camelot,  the  mighty  Arthur  himself. 
His  crown  of  gold  was  by  his  side,  a  pile  of  gold  lay  at  his 
feet,  and  beyond  the  circle  of  his  followers  were  a  thousand 
steeds,  all  saddled  and  bridled  as  if  ready  for  battle.  Some- 
times they  champed  as  if  eager  for  the  war  cry,  sometimes 
they  drooped  their  heads  wearily. 


254  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Noticing  a  bell  suspended  just  above  the  treasure  heap, 
the  cobbler  pointed  to  it. 

"Do  not  touch  it,"  the  Englishman  warned.  "But  if  by 
accident  you  do,  and  the  warriors  waken  and  ask  if  it  is  day, 
say,  'No,  sleep  thou  on.'  Otherwise  a  terrible  fate  will 
overtake  you." 

They  helped  themselves  to  the  gold  and  left  the  cave, 
and  each  man  went  his  way.  The  Welshman,  having  all 
the  treasure  he  could  carry,  was  no  longer  a  poor  cobbler 
who  must  spend  his  time  bending  over  shoe  lasts.  He  was 
richer  than  the  mayor  and  could  feast  and  ride  in  a  coach, 
dance  at  the  fair,  and  live  like  the  lords  of  the  land. 

But  riches  made  that  cobbler  greedy.  He  had  far  more 
gold  than  he  needed,  and  the  finest  house  in  seven  counties, 
but  still  he  wanted  more.  He  kept  thinking  of  the  gold 
piled  high  in  Arthur's  cave ;  so  one  day  he  journeyed  back 
to  the  Vale  of  Neath  and  waited  for  nightfall. 

Then,  creeping  to  the  place  of  the  hazel  bush,  he  moved 
the  rock  and  went  into  the  cave. 

Ah,  it  was  a  goodly  sight,  those  thousand  warriors  slum- 
bering there  beside  the  treasure  heap  and  a  thousand  saddled 
chargers  beyond!  He  would  take  all  the  gold  he  could 
carry,  and  very  soon  he  would  come  back  for  more.  But 
in  his  greed  to  increase  his  wealth  he  bumped  against  the 
bell,  which  clanged  loudly.  The  warriors  started  up,  ask- 
ing if  it  was  day,  but  the  man  was  so  dazzled  by  the  pile  of 
shining  treasure  that  he  did  not  have  the  answer  ready. 
They  leaped  to  their  feet,  called  him  a  robber,  beat  him,  and 
drove  him  from  the  cave. 

Then  what  a  change !  He  went  limping  homeward,  to 
discover  that  all  his  wealth  had  disappeared  and  where  his 
great  house  had  stood  was  a  miserable  hut.  He  was  as  poor 
as  ever,  and  unless  he  could  get  more  gold  out  of  the  cave 
must  go  back  to  cobbling  and  never  again  ride  in  a  coach. 
But  try  as  he  would,  he  could  not  find  the  place  where  the 


Stories  for  Telling  255 

hazel  bush  had  grown.  Many  a  journey  he  made  into  the 
Vale  of  Neath,  but  never  did  he  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  broad, 
flat  stone.  He  had  to  spend  his  days  bending  over  shoe 
lasts  instead  of  riding  in  a  coach,  and  was  a  cripple  as  long 
as  he  lived. 


THE  STORY  OF  A  SALMON 
BY  DAVID  STARR  JORDAN 

(Science) 

In  the  realm  of  the  Northwest  Wind,  on  the  boundary 
line  between  the  dark  fir  forests  and  the  sunny  plains,  there 
stands  a  mountain  —  a  great  white  cone  two  miles  and  a 
half  in  perpendicular  height.  On  its  lower  mile  the  dense 
fir  woods  cover  it  with  never  changing  green;  on  its  next 
half  mile  a  lighter  green  of  grass  and  bushes  gives  place  in 
winter  to  white;  and  on  its  uppermost  mile  the  snows  of 
the  great  ice  age  still  linger  in  unspotted  purity.  The 
people  of  Washington  Territory  say  that  their  mountain 
is  the  great  "King-pin  of  the  Universe,"  which  shows  that 
even  hi  its  own  country  Mount  Tacoma  is  not  without 
honor. 

Flowing  down  from  the  southwest  slope  of  Mount  Tacoma 
is  a  cold,  clear  river,  fed  by  the  melting  snows  of  the  moun- 
tain. Madly  it  hastens  down  over  white  cascades  and 
beds  of  shining  sands,  through  birch  woods  and  belts  of 
dark  firs,  to  mingle  its  waters  at  last  with  those  of  the  great 
Columbia.  This  river  is  the  Cowlitz;  and  on  its  bottom, 
not  many  years  ago,  there  lay  hah0  buried  hi  the  sand  a 
number  of  little  orange-colored  globules,  each  about  as  large 
as  a  pea.  These  were  not  much  in  themselves,  but  great 
in  their  possibilities.  In  the  waters  above  them  little 


256  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

suckers  and  chubs  and  prickly  sculpins  strained  their  mouths 
to  draw  these  globules  from  the  sand,  and  vicious-looking 
crawfishes  picked  them  up  with  their  blundering  hands  and 
examined  them  with  their  telescopic  eyes.  But  one,  at  least, 
of  the  globules  escaped  their  curiosity,  else  this  story  would 
not  be  worth  telling.  The  sun  shone  down  on  it  through 
the  clear  water,  and  the  ripples  of  the  Cowlitz  said  over  it 
their  incantations,  and  in  it  at  last  awoke  a  living  being. 
It  was  a  fish, — a  curious  little  fellow,  not  half  an  inch  long, 
with  great,  staring  eyes,  which  made  almost  half  his  length, 
and  with  a  body  so  transparent  that  he  could  not  cast  a 
shadow.  He  was  a  little  salmon,  a  very  little  salmon ; 
but  the  water  was  good,  and  there  were  flies  and  worms  and 
little  living  creatures  in  abundance  for  him  to  eat,  and  he 
soon  became  a  larger  salmon.  Then  there  were  many  more 
little  salmon  with  him,  some  larger  and  some  smaller, 
and  they  all  had  a  merry  time.  Those  who  had  been  born 
soonest  and  had  grown  largest  used  to  chase  the  others  around 
and  bite  heads  and  swallow  them  whole;  for,  said  they, 
"even  young  salmon  are  good  eating."  "Heads  I  win,  tails 
you  lose,"  was  their  motto.  Thus,  what  was  once  two 
small  salmon  became  united  into  a  single  larger  one,  and 
the  process  of  "addition,  division,  and  silence"  still  went  on. 

By  and  by,  when  all  the  salmon  were  too  large  to  be 
swallowed,  they  began  to  grow  restless.  They  saw  that 
the  water  rushing  by  seemed  to  be  in  a  great  hurry  to  get 
somewhere,  and  it  was  somehow  suggested  that  its  hurry 
was  caused  by  something  good  to  eat  at  the  other  end  of  its 
course.  Then  they  all  started  down  the  stream,  salmon 
fashion,  —  which  fashion  is  to  get  into  the  current,  head 
upstream,  and  thus  to  drift  backward  as  the  river  sweeps 
along. 

At  last  they  came  to  where  the  Cowlitz  and  the  Columbia 
join,  and  they  were  almost  lost  for  a  time ;  for  they  could 
find  no  shores,  and  the  bottom  and  the  top  of  the  water 


Stories  for  Telling  257 

were  so  far  apart.  Here  they  saw  other  and  far  larger  salmon 
in  the  deepest  part  of  the  current,  turning  neither  to  the 
right  nor  to  the  left,  but  swimming  right  on  upstream  just 
as  rapidly  as  they  could.  And  these  great  salmon  would 
not  stop  for  them,  and  would  not  lie  and  float  with  the  cur- 
rent. They  had  no  time  to  talk,  even  in  the  simple  sign 
language  by  which  fishes  express  their  ideas,  and  no  time 
to  eat.  They  had  important  work  before  them,  and  the 
time  was  short.  So  they  went  on  up  the  river,  keeping  their 
great  purposes  to  themselves ;  and  our  little  salmon  and  his 
friends  from  the  Cowlitz  drifted  down  the  stream. 

By  and  by  the  water  began  to  change.  It  grew  denser, 
and  no  longer  flowed  rapidly  along;  and  twice  a  day  it 
used  to  turn  about  and  flow  the  other  way.  Then  the  shores 
disappeared,  and  the  water  began  to  have  a  different  and 
peculiar  flavor,  —  a  flavor  which  seemed  to  the  salmon 
much  richer  and  more  inspiring  than  the  glacier  water  of 
their  native  Cowlitz.  There  were  many  curious  things  to 
see  —  crabs  with  hard  shells  and  savage  faces,  but  so  good 
when  crushed  and  swallowed  I  Then  there  were  luscious 
squid  swimming  about;  and,  to  a  salmon,  squid  are  like 
ripe  peaches  and  cream.  There  were  great  companies  of 
delicate  sardines  and  herring,  green  and  silvery,  and  it  was 
such  fun  to  chase  and  capture  them !  Those  who  eat 
sardines  packed  in  oil  by  greasy  fingers,  and  herrings  dried 
in  the  smoke,  can  have  little  idea  how  satisfying  it  is  to 
have  a  meal  of  them,  plump  and  sleek  and  silvery,  fresh  from 
the  sea. 

Thus  the  salmon  chased  the  herrings  about,  and  had  a 
merry  time.  Then  they  were  chased  in  turn  by  great  sea 
lions,  —  swimming  monsters  with  huge  half-human  faces, 
long  thin  whiskers,  and  blundering  ways.  The  sea  lions  like 
to  bite  out  the  throat  of  a  salmon,  with  its  precious  stomach 
full  of  luscious  sardines,  and  then  to  leave  the  rest  of  the  fish 
to  shift  for  itself.  And  the  seals  and  the  herrings  scattered 


258  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  salmon  about,  till  at  last  the  hero  of  our  story  found 
himself  quite  alone,  with  none  of  his  own  kind  near  him. 
But  that  did  not  trouble  him  much,  and  he  went  on  his 
own  way,  getting  his  dinner  when  he  was  hungry,  which  was 
all  the  time,  and  then  eating  a  little  between  meals  for  his 
stomach's  sake. 

So  it  went  on  for  three  long  years ;  and  at  the  end  of  this 
time  our  little  fish  had  grown  to  be  a  great,  fine  salmon  of 
twenty-two  pounds'  weight,  shining  like  a  new  tin  pan,  and 
with  rows  of  the  loveliest  round  black  spots  on  his  head  and 
back  and  tail.  One  day,  as  he  was  swimming  about,  idly 
chasing  a  big  sculpin  with  a  head  so  thorny  that  he  never 
was  swallowed  by  anybody,  all  of  a  sudden  the  salmon 
noticed  a  change  in  the  water  around  him. 

Spring  had  come  again,  and  the  south-lying  snowdrifts 
on  the  Cascade  Mountains  once  more  felt  that  the  "earth 
was  wheeling  sunwards."  The  cold  snow  waters  ran  down 
from  the  mountains  and  into  the  Columbia  River,  and  made 
a  freshet  on  the  river.  The  high  water  went  far  out  into  the 
sea,  and  out  in  the  sea  our  salmon  felt  it  on  his  gills.  He 
remembered  how  the  cold  water  used  to  feel  in  the  Cowh'tz 
when  he  was  a  little  fish.  In  a  blundering,  fishy  fashion 
he  thought  about  it;  he  wondered  whether  the  little  eddy 
looked  as  it  used  to  look  and  whether  caddis  worms  and 
young  mosquitoes  were  really  as  sweet  and  tender  as  he 
used  to  think  they  were.  Then  he  thought  some  other, 
things;  but  as  the  salmon's  mind  is  located  in  the  optic 
lobes  of  his  brain,  and  ours  is  in  a  different  place,  we  cannot 
be  quite  certain  what  his  thoughts  really  were. 

What  our  salmon  did,  we  know.  He  did  what  every 
grown  salmon  in  the  ocean  does  when  he  feels  the  glacier 
water  once  more  upon  his  gills.  He  became  a  changed  being. 
He  spurned  the  blandishment  of  soft-shelled  crabs.  The 
pleasures  of  the  table  and  of  the  chase,  heretofore  his  only 
delights,  lost  their  charms  for  him.  He  turned  his  course 


Stories  for  Telling  259 

straight  toward  the  direction  whence  the  cold  water  came, 
and  for  the  rest  of  his  life  never  tasted  a  mouthful  of  food. 
He  moved  on  toward  the  river  mouth,  at  first  playfully,  as 
though  he  were  not  really  certain  whether  he  meant  any- 
thing after  all.  Afterward,  when  he  struck  the  full  current 
of  the  Columbia,  he  plunged  straight  forward  with  an  un- 
flinching determination  that  had  in  it  something  of  the  heroic. 
When  he  had  passed  the  rough  water  at  the  bar,  he  was  not 
alone.  His  old  neighbors  of  the  Cowlitz,  and  many  more 
from  the  Clackamas  and  the  Spokane  and  Des  Chutes  and 
Kootanie,  —  a  great  army  of  salmon,  —  were  with  him. 
In  front  were  thousands  pressing  on,  and  behind  them  were 
thousands  more,  all  moved  by  a  common  impulse  which 
urged  them  up  the  Columbia. 

They  were  all  swimming  bravely  along  where  the  current 
was  deepest,  when  suddenly  the  foremost  felt  something 
tickling  like  a  cobweb  about  their  noses  and  under  their 
chins.  They  changed  their  course  a  little  to  brush  it  off 
and  it  touched  their  fins  as  well.  Then  they  tried  to  slip 
down  with  the  current,  and  thus  leave  it  behind.  But,  no  1 
the  thing,  whatever  it  was,  although  its  touch  was  soft, 
refused  to  let  go,  and  held  them  like  a  fetter.  The  more 
they  struggled,  the  tighter  became  its  grasp,  and  the  whole 
foremost  rank  of  the  salmon  felt  it  together ;  for  it  was  a 
great  gill  net,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  stretched  squarely 
across  the  mouth  of  the  river. 

By  and  by  men  came  in  boats,  and  hauled  up  the  gill 
net  and  the  helpless  salmon  that  had  become  entangled  in 
it.  They  threw  the  fishes  into  a  pile  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  and  the  others  saw  them  no  more.  We  that  live  out- 
side the  water  know  better  what  befalls  them,  and  we  can 
tell  the  story  which  the  salmon  could  not. 

All  along  the  banks  of  the  Columbia  River,  from  its  mouth 
to  nearly  thirty  miles  away,  there  is  a  succession  of  large 
buildings,  looking  like  great  barns  or  warehouses,  built  on 


260  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

piles  in  the  river,  high  enough  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of 
floods.  There  are  thirty  of  these  buildings,  and  they  are 
called  "canneries."  Each  cannery  has  about  forty  boats, 
and  with  each  boat  are  two  men  and  a  long  gill  net.  These 
nets  fill  the  whole  river  as  with  a  nest  of  cobwebs  from 
April  to  July,  and  to  each  cannery  nearly  a  thousand  great 
salmon  are  brought  every  day.  These  salmon  are  thrown 
in  a  pile  on  the  floor ;  and  Wing  Hop,  the  big  Chinaman, 
takes  them  one  after  another  on  the  table,  and  with  a  great 
knife  dexterously  cuts  off  the  head,  the  tail,  and  the  fins ; 
then  with  a  sudden  thrust  he  removes  the  intestines  and  the 
eggs.  The  body  goes  into  a  tank  of  water ;  and  the  head  is 
dropped  into  a  box  on  a  flatboat,  and  goes  down  the  river 
to  be  made  into  salmon  oil.  Next  the  body  is  brought  to 
another  table;  and  Quong  Sang,  with  a  machine  like  a 
feed  cutter,  cuts  it  into  pieces  each  just  as  long  as  a  one- 
pound  can.  Then  Ah  Sam,  with  a  butcher  knife,  cuts 
these  pieces  into  strips  just  as  wide  as  the  can.  Next  Wan 
Lee,  the  "China  boy,"  brings  down  a  hundred  cans  from  the 
loft  where  the  tinners  are  making  them,  and  into  each  can 
puts  a  spoonful  of  salt.  It  takes  just  six  salmon  to  fill  a 
hundred  cans.  Then  twenty  Chinamen  put  the  pieces  of 
meat  into  the  cans,  fitting  in  little  strips  to  make  them 
exactly  full.  Ten  more  solder  up  the  cans,  and  ten  more 
put  the  cans  into  boiling  water  till  the  meat  is  thoroughly 
cooked,  and  five  more  punch  a  little  hole  in  the  head  of  each 
can  to  let  out  the  air.  Then  they  solder  them  up  again, 
and  little  girls  paste  on  them  bright-colored  labels  showing 
merry  little  cupids  riding  the  happy  salmon  up  to  the  can- 
nery door,  with  Mount  Tacoma  and  Cape  Disappointment 
in  the  background ;  and  a  legend  underneath  says  that  this  is 
"Booth's"  or  "Badollet's  Best,"  or  "Hume's,"  or  "Clark's," 
or  "Kinney's  Superfine  Salt  Water  Salmon."  Then  the 
cans  are  placed  in  cases,  forty-eight  in  a  case,  and  five 
hundred  thousand  cases  are  put  up  every  year.  Great  ships 


Stories  for  Telling  261 

come  to  Astoria,  and  are  loaded  with  them ;  and  they  carry 
them  away  to  London  and  San  Francisco  and  Liverpool 
and  New  York  and  Sydney  and  Valparaiso;  and  the  man 
at  the  corner  grocery  sells  them  at  twenty  cents  a  can. 

All  this  time  our  salmon  is  going  up  the  river,  eluding 
one  net  as  by  a  miracle,  and  soon  having  need  of  more 
miracles  to  escape  the  rest;  passing  by  Astoria  on  a  for- 
tunate day,  —  which  was  Sunday,  the  day  on  which  no 
man  may  fish  if  he  expects  to  sell  what  he  catches,  —  till 
finally  he  came  to  where  nets  were  few,  and,  at  last,  to 
where  they  ceased  altogether.  But  there  he  found  that 
scarcely  any  of  his  companions  were  with  him ;  for  the  nets 
cease  when  there  are  no  more  salmon  to  be  caught  in  them. 
So  he  went  on,  day  and  night,  where  the  water  was  deepest, 
stopping  not  to  feed  or  loiter  on  the  way,  till  at  last  he  came 
to  a  wild  gorge,  where  the  great  river  became  an  angry  tor- 
rent, rushing  wildly  over  a  huge  staircase  of  rocks.  But 
our  hero  did  not  falter ;  and  summoning  all  his  forces,  he 
plunged  into  the  Cascades.  The  current  caught  him  and 
dashed  him  against  the  rocks.  A  whole  row  of  silvery  scales 
came  off  and  glistened  in  the  water  like  sparks  of  fire,  and 
a  place  on  his  side  became  black  and  red,  which  for  a  salmon 
is  the  same  as  being  black  and  blue  for  other  people.  His 
comrades  tried  to  go  up  with  him ;  and  one  lost  his  eye, 
one  his  tail,  and  one  had  his  lower  jaw  pushed  back  into 
his  head  like  the  joint  of  a  telescope.  Again  he  tried  to 
surmount  the  Cascades ;  and  at  last  he  succeeded,  and  an 
Indian  on  the  rocks  above  was  waiting  to  receive  him. 
But  the  Indian  with  his  spear  was  less  skillful  than  he  was 
wont  to  be,  and  our  hero  escaped,  losing  only  a  part  of  one 
of  his  fins ;  and  with  him  came  one  other,  and  henceforth 
these  two  pursued  their  journey  together. 

Now  a  gradual  change  took  place  in  the  looks  of  our 
salmon.  In  the  sea  he  was  plump  and  round  and  silvery, 
with  delicate  teeth  in  a  symmetrical  mouth.  Now  his  silvery 


262  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

color  disappeared,  his  skin  grew  slimy,  and  the  scales  sank 
into  it :  his  back  grew  black,  and  his  sides  turned  red,  — 
not  a  healthy  red,  but  a  sort  of  hectic  flush.  He  grew  poor ; 
and  his  back,  formerly  as  straight  as  need  be,  now  developed 
an  unpleasant  hump  at  the  shoulders.  His  eyes  —  like 
those  of  all  enthusiasts  who  forsake  eating  and  sleeping  for 
some  loftier  aim  —  became  dark  and  sunken.  His  sym- 
metrical jaws  grew  longer  and  longer,  and  projected  from 
his  mouth,  giving  him  a  savage  and  wolfish  appearance, 
quite  at  variance  with  his  real  disposition.  For  all  the  de- 
sires and  ambitions  of  his  nature  had  become  centered  into 
one.  We  may  not  know  what  this  one  was,  but  we  know 
that  it  was  a  strong  one ;  for  it  had  led  him  on  and  on,  — 
past  the  nets  and  horrors  of  Astoria;  past  the  dangerous 
Cascades,  past  the  spears  of  Indians ;  through  the  terrible 
flume  of  the  Dalles,  where  the  mighty  river  is  compressed 
between  huge  rocks  into  a  channel  narrower  than  a  village 
street;  on  past  the  meadows  of  Umatilla  and  the  wheat 
fields  of  Walla  Walla ;  on  to  where  the  great  Snake  River 
and  the  Columbia  join ;  on  up  the  Snake  River  and  its 
eastern  branch,  till  at  last  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  Bitter 
Root  Mountains  in  the  Territory  of  Idaho,  nearly  a  thousand 
miles  from  the  ocean  which  he  had  left  in  April.  With  him 
still  was  the  other  salmon  which  had  come  with  him  through 
the  Cascades,  handsomer  and  smaller  than  he,  and,  like 
him,  growing  poor  and  ragged  and  tired. 

At  last,  one  October  afternoon,  our  finny  travelers  came 
together  to  a  little  clear  brook,  with  a  bottom  of  fine  gravel, 
over  which  the  water  was  but  a  few  inches  deep.  Our  fish 
painfully  worked  his  way  to  it;  for  his  tail  was  all  frayed 
out,  his  muscles  were  sore,  and  his  skin  covered  with  un- 
sightly blotches.  But  his  sunken  eyes  saw  a  ripple  in  the 
stream,  and  under  it  a  bed  of  little  pebbles  and  sand.  So 
there  in  the  sand  he  scooped  out  with  his  tail  a  smooth  round 
place,  and  his  companion  came  and  filled  it  with  orange- 


Stories  for  Telling  263 

colored  eggs.  Then  our  salmon  came  back  again;  and 
softly  covering  the  eggs,  the  work  of  their  lives  was  done, 
and,  in  the  old  salmon  fashion,  they  drifted  tail  foremost 
down  the  stream. 

They  drifted  on  together  for  a  night  and  a  day,  but  they 
never  came  to  the  sea.  For  the  salmon  has  but  one  life  to 
live,  and  it  ascends  the  river  but  once.  The  rest  lies  with 
its  children.  And  when  the  April  sunshine  fell  on  the 
globules  in  the  gravel,  these  were  awakened  into  life.  With 
the  early  autumn  rains,  the  little  fishes  were  large  enough 
to  begin  their  wanderings.  They  dropped  down  the  current 
in  the  old  salmon  fashion.  And  thus  they  came  into  the 
great  river  and  drifted  away  to  the  sea. 


THE  PIGEONS  OF  VENICE 

(History) 

In  one  of  the  upland  valleys  of  Italy,  shut  away  from  the 
rest  of  the  world  by  the  high,  white  peaks  men  call  the 
Dolomites,  there  lived,  about  five  hundred  years  ago,  a  little 
boy  named  Leonardo.  He  dwelt  in  a  tiny  hut  with  his 
black-eyed  peasant  mother,  fed  the  pigeons  and  milked  the 
goats  each  day,  and  in  the  evening,  the  pleasant  summer 
evening  that  spread  rainbow-colored  draperies  over  the 
Dolomite  peaks,  he  lay  in  the  shadows  under  the  plum 
tree,  thinking  about  his  brother  Vittorio,  who  was  a  soldier 
down  in  the  great  city  of  Venice. 

"I  wish  brother  would  come  home,"  he  said  to  his  mother 
one  morning  as  they  ate  their  breakfast  of  macaroni  and 
mountain  bread,  "because  he  always  tells  such  wonderful 
things  about  the  city.  Some  day  I  mean  to  go  there  and  be 
a  soldier,  too." 

His  dark  eyes  gleamed  as  he  spoke,  and  he  sat  very 


264  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

straight  in  his  heavy  oaken  chair,  as  of  course  a  soldier  ought, 
to  do. 

Everybody  knows  that  wishes  do  not  always  come  true, 
but  sometimes  they  do,  and  when  that  happens  the  whole 
world  seems  brighter  and  lovelier  than  it  seemed  before. 
The  next  afternoon,  as  Leonardo  was  turning  the  goats  into 
their  inclosure,  he  gave  a  shout  so  joyous  that  even  Armando 
the  weaver,  in  his  shop  at  the  other  end  of  the  village,  heard 
and  ran  to  see  what  it  meant.  He  soon  found  out,  for  he 
saw  Leonardo  hurrying  toward  a  man  who  was  moving 
along  the  highway.  Vittorio,  the  soldier  brother,  was  com- 
ing home,  coming  back  to  the  mountain  village  with  many  a 
tale  of  the  splendid  city  beside  the  Adriatic,  and  perhaps 
with  a  goody  that  would  taste  very  sweet  after  the  coarse 
fare  of  weeks  and  months. 

Far  into  the  night  the  brothers  sat  and  talked  together, 
talked  of  palaces  and  gliding  gondolas,  of  great  lords  and 
ladies,  of  soldiers  moving  in  splendid  uniforms  about  the 
Piazza  of  St.  Mark.  They  talked  of  Carnival  time  too,  of 
the  merry  pranks  the  people  played  on  each  other,  of  the 
procession  on  the  water  and  the  presents  given  to  the  Doge. 

"And  sometimes,"  Vittorio  exclaimed  proudly,  "they 
are  very  splendid.  Sometimes  they  are  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  of  silk  stuffs  brought  from  the  Indies." 

Leonardo  sat  silent  for  a  minute.  He  knew  little  of 
present  giving,  for  in  the  mountains  where  he  lived  there 
was  no  money  to  spend  on  such  things.  But  always  when 
he  made  his  mother  a  garland  of  flowers  on  her  birthday, 
she  seemed  so  happy  about  it  that  he  thought  it  must  be 
very  lovely  to  bestow  gifts.  So  he  said  softly,  "I  should 
like  to  send  a  present  to  the  Doge.  It  would  seem  like  doing 
something  for  Venice.  But  I  have  nothing  to  give." 

"Wait  until  you  are  a  man  and  can  be  a  soldier,"  the  big 
brother  answered.  "Then  you  will  be  doing  much." 

The  next  morning  he  was  up  at  daybreak.     Vittorio  had 


Stories  for  Telling  265 

only  two  days'  leave,  which  meant  that  he  must  start  back 
at  noon,  and  his  mother  had  promised  that  Leonardo  might 
go  with  him  to  the  edge  of  the  village  if  he  finished  his  tasks 
in  time.  So  he  milked  the  goats  before  there  was  a  bit  of 
stirring  about  the  hut,  and  led  the  geese  from  their  pen  to 
crop  the  green  grass  on  the  hillside.  Then  he  cut  some 
grass  and  threw  it  to  the  old  horse  that  was  their  most 
prized  possession,  and  by  the  time  his  brother  came  from  the 
hut  he  called  to  him,  "  I  have  only  to  feed  the  pigeons  yet." 

Vittorio  smiled  and  stood  watching  as  the  boy  whistled 
to  the  birds. 

The  gentle  creatures  flew  up  at  Leonardo's  call,  and  as 
he  scattered  crumbs  to  them,  he  thought  again  of  the  great 
carnival  at  Venice  and  the  gifts  that  would  be  made  to  the 
Doge.  He  wished  that  he  too  might  join  that  throng  of 
givers,  but  he  possessed  nothing  but  his  pigeons,  and  a  bird 
would  seem  a  very  poor  present  to  offer  a  ruler.  But  he 
happened  to  think  that  the  schoolmaster  had  once  told  him 
that  it  is  not  the  cost  or  the  beauty  of  an  offering  that 
makes  it  precious,  but  the  good  will  of  the  giver,  and  that  a 
beggar's  portion  may  be  a  lovelier  gift  than  that  of  a  prince. 
The  schoolmaster  was  very  wise.  He  could  both  read  and 
write,  which  only  a  few  could  do  in  that  day,  so  anything 
that  he  said  must  be  true ;  and  the  memory  of  the  words 
brought  an  idea  to  Leonardo  that  made  the  boy's  eyes  dance. 

"Vittorio,"  he  exclaimed  suddenly,  "I  have  thought  of 
something." 

Vittorio  wondered  what  excited  his  brother  so. 

"Well?"  he  asked  as  he  walked  near. 

"Will  you  take  a  pair  of  pigeons  back  to  the  city  with 
you?" 

"A  pair  of  pigeons."  the  soldier  repeated.     "Why?" 

"  I  want  to  send  a  present  to  the  Doge,  and  I  have  noth- 
ing else,"  he  answered.  "But  the  birds  are  so  gentle  I  am 
sure  he  will  like  them.  They  are  fine  carriers,  too." 


266  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Vittorio  smiled.  Being  in  the  army  of  the  Doge,  he  was 
pleased  that  his  brother  showed  such  loyalty  to  the  master 
he  served.  It  meant  that  he  would  probably  grow  up  to 
be  a  good  soldier,  and  in  those  days  nothing  was  considered 
finer  than  that.  So  he  answered  pleasantly:  "Of  course  I 
will,  Leonardo,  if  you  are  sure  you  can  give  up  your  pets. 
I  will  ask  my  captain,  who  knows  the  Doge  well,  to  take 
them  to  him  and  say  that  they  are  the  gift  of  a  mountain 
boy." 

Leonardo's  eyes  sparkled  with  delight.  It  seemed  a 
glorious  thing  that  he  too  might  give  with  the  rich  and 
great;  so  he  selected  the  handsomest  pair  in  the  covey, 
birds  of  a  soft  gray,  with  shadings  of  blue  and  purple  along 
their  delicate  wings,  and  he  and  Vittorio  made  a  rude  cage 
in  which  to  carry  them  to  the  city. 

Then  they  walked  together  to  the  edge  of  the  village,  and 
Leonardo  watched  his  brother  go  along  the  road  that  wound 
down  to  the  low  country.  He  waved  good-by  until  Vittorio 
passed  from  sight,  then  went  back  to  the  hut,  happy  in  the 
thought  that  he  was  doing  something  for  Venice. 

Many  months  passed.  It  was  September  when  Vittorio 
went  away,  and  now  the  blossom  time  had  come  and  hills 
were  bright  with  touches  of  summer.  All  through  that 
long  period  Leonardo  wondered  much  about  the  pigeons, 
but  no  word  came  from  his  brother ;  for  letters  went  only 
by  courier  in  those  days,  and  poor  folk  could  not  pay  for 
the  carrying.  But  he  was  sure  the  birds  had  reached  the 
Doge,  for  Vittorio  had  promised  and  a  soldier  never  broke 
his  word. 

Then  one  day  in  the  autumn,  when  the  brightness  on  the 
mountains  had  faded  to  bronze  and  gray,  and  squirrels 
were  stocking  their  houses  as  nuts  dropped  in  the  woods, 
Vittorio  came  back.  He  looked  older  and  graver  than 
the  year  before,  and  some  worrying  thing  seemed  on  his 
mind. 


Stories  for  Telling  267 

"It  is  just  to  say  good-by,"  he  said,  as  the  gray-haired 
mother  stroked  his  hands  and  Leonardo  looked  at  him 
with  loving  eyes.  "The  war  has  begun,  and  we  soldiers  of 
Venice  must  sail  away  to  Candia  for  the  fighting." 

Leonardo's  eyes  grew  wide,  and  tears  came  into  them  as 
he  exclaimed,  "If  only  I  were  old  enough  to  go  with  you 
and  help  serve  our  glorious  city  of  St.  Mark  1" 

The  big  man  laid  his  hand  lovingly  on  the  dark  head. 

"Never  mind,  brother,"  he  said.  "You  have  already 
done  much.  I  gave  your  birds  to  my  captain,  who  took 
them  to  the  Doge,  and  the  Doge  is  proud  of  them  because 
they  are  splendid  carriers.  So  Dandolo,  our  general,  will 
take  them  along  with  the  army  to  bring  back  news  of  the 
war.  And  now  good-by.  When  the  fighting  is  over,  I 
will  come  again." 

He  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away,  and  two  pairs  of 
dewy  eyes  looked  after  him  as  he  went. 

The  days  that  followed  seemed  very  long  to  the  two  who 
waited  in  the  highlands.  They  knew  that  the  army  had 
gone,  and  that  away  on  the  eastern  island  perhaps  the  fight- 
ing had  begun.  But  what  of  the  fate  of  the  Venetian  hosts, 
and  what  of  the  son  and  brother  who  had  sailed  under  the 
standard  of  the  Lion?  As  to  that  they  could  only  hope 
and  wonder. 

Slowly,  slowly  dragged  the  days,  but  no  word  came  back. 

One  morning,  while  Leonardo  and  his  mother  prayed 
and  waited  in  the  mountain  cabin,  down  in  Venice  in  the 
splendid  Palace  of  the  Doges,  the  Council  of  Ten  sat  and 
pondered.  They  talked  much  about  the  absent  army, 
wondering  if  victory  or  defeat  had  been  its  share,  and  while 
they  wondered  there  came  a  fluttering  of  soft  gray  wings. 

"Pigeons!"  some  one  called.     "See,  they  are  carriers!" 

The  dignified  assemblage  broke  up  in  excitement,  for  they 
knew  the  tiny  birds  were  messengers,  and  the  men  hurried 
to  read  the  missives  fastened  to  their  crimson  feet. 


268  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"They  come  from  Dandolo,"  said  one  of  the  nobles, 
"bringing  news  of  the  war." 

"From  Candia!"  another  exclaimed.  "It  cannot  be 
that  they  have  flown  so  far  I" 

But  it  was  true,  for  upon  reading  they  learned  that  the 
Venetian  army  had  been  victorious  and  the  soldiers  would 
soon  sail  home  in  triumph.  The  tiny  birds  had  flown  all 
the  long  leagues  across  the  sea  to  carry  the  glad  news  to 
the  waiting  people. 

Up  in  the  hut  in  the  Italian  highlands  Leonardo  and  his 
mother  still  watched  and  wondered,  when  one  evening  a  few 
days  later  Armando,  the  village  weaver,  came  by  on  his 
way  home  from  the  city.  He  was  greatly  excited  and  called 
to  them  as  he  stopped  at  the  door. 

"Rejoice,"  he  said,  "for  the  war  is  over!" 

"How  do  you  know?"  the  mother  asked.  "Are  the 
soldiers  back?" 

"No.  But  the  pigeons  brought  the  word,  and  every  one 
is  glad." 

"Pigeons!"  exclaimed  Leonardo.  "My  pigeons  1  Then 
after  all  I  did  something  for  Venice." 

And  he  spoke  the  truth.  So  much  did  the  message  mean 
to  the 'anxious  people,  that  the  lawmakers  said  they  would 
always  keep  the  birds,  they  and  their  young  and  their  chil- 
dren's young.  And  although  hundreds  of  years  have 
passed  since  then,  still  the  gray-winged  creatures  fly  about 
St.  Mark's  Square,  and  the  people  love  and  feed  them. 
For  they  know  they  are  descended  from  the  pair  sent  to 
the  Doge  by  a  mountain  boy,  Leonardo's  pigeons,  that  long 
ago  flew  across  the  wide  seas,  bringing  word  of  the  victory 
of  the  Venetian  hosts. 


Stories  for  Telling  269 

t 

THE  COMING  OF  THE  WONDER  TREE 

RETOLD  FROM  AN  ARABIAN  LEGEND 

(Geography  —  Nature  Study) 

Abi  Ren  Ahmed  was  a  chief  of  Araby,  and  there  was  no 
sweeter  child  in  the  land  than  his  little  daughter  Zuleika. 
She  was  fair  to  look  upon,  with  eyes  slender  as  an  almond 
and  soft  as  a  gazelle's,  and  the  goodness  of  her  heart  was 
known  to  every  one  in  the  tribe.  Lowly  slave  and  mighty 
sheik  alike  loved  her,  and  when  she  was  with  her  father  he 
forgot  all  his  trouble. 

One  evening  when  the  sun  was  dropping  low  over  the 
desert,  Zuleika  sat  in  front  of  the  tent  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  have  her  supper.  Her  father  was  eating  just  then,  for 
by  the  laws  of  Arabian  politeness  women  and  children  must 
wait  for  meals  until  their  lords  and  masters  have  finished. 
She  was  hungry,  yet  she  did  not  mind  the  delay,  because 
she  knew  nothing  else,  and  when  you  think  all  the  world 
does  things  as  you  do,  your  way  does  not  seem  hard.  So 
she  watched  the  color  flame  across  the  western  sky,  hummed 
snatches  of  song,  and  made  pictures  in  the  sand  with  her 
fingers. 

Suddenly,  away  to  the  south,  a  yellow  cloud  seemed  to 
rise  out  of  the  desert.  It  moved  nearer,  and  as  Zuleika 
watched  it  her  dark  eyes  began  to  sparkle.  She  knew  what 
it  meant  and  it  made  her  glad. 

"Father,"  she  called,  "some  one  is  riding  this  way." 

Abi  Ren  Ahmed  left  his  supper  and  came  from  the  tent 
to  see.  The  Arab  is  fond  of  his  food  and  very  loth  to  leave 
it,  but  when  strangers  almost  never  come  by  it  is  worth 
going  without  a  meal  to  see  them. 

"Yes,"  he  agreed,  as  his  piercing  eyes  scanned  the  southern 
horizon,  "some  one  is  traveling  across  the  desert." 

Zuleika  danced  with  delight.    Only  once  or  twice  since  she 


270  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

could  remember  had  any  one  come  to  the  camp,  for  it  was 
in  the  very  heart  of  El  Nedjed,  and  there  was  little  traveling 
in  those  far-off  days.  Long  before,  when  she  was  a  tiny 
girl,  a  traveler  had  come  that  way,  and  while  he  lingered 
at  camp,  told  of  the  blue  Persian  Gulf  beyond  the  Oman 
shore,  and  of  the  music  of  its  plashing  waves.  No  word 
has  such  a  magical  sound  to  the  Arab  as  "water,"  and 
to  hear  of  lakes  and  rivers  of  it  is  like  some  exquisite 
fairy  tale. 

"It  is  a  desert  of  water  more  beautiful  than  the  land," 
he  said  in  the  soft,  sweet  tongue  of  the  East.  "Houris 
dwell  there,  and  often  when  the  moon  is  shining  they  come 
out  and  sport  upon  the  sands." 

The  tale  fascinated  her  at  the  time,  and  had  always 
stayed  in  her  memory.  That  is  why  she  was  happy  to  see  a 
stranger  approaching.  She  thought  he  might  tell  her  of  the 
lovely  realm  beyond. 

As  the  cloud  rolled  nearer  they  saw  a  rider  on  a  milk- 
white  steed.  Abi  Ben  Ahmed  called  to  his  men  to  come 
and  welcome  the  stranger,  for  an  Arab  who  lets  even  one 
slave  stay  away  when  a  guest  arrives,  is  lacking  in  courtesy. 
So  they  advanced,  stalwart,  dark-skinned  men,  whose  tur- 
baned  heads  were  bowed  almost  to  the  ground  as  they  gave 
the  low  salaam  of  the  East,  while  the  chief  spoke  words  of 
welcome  to  his  camp. 

Very  swarthy  was  the  rider,  and  of  proud  demeanor  that 
proclaimed  him  a  person  of  much  consequence,  and  as  he 
returned  Ben  Abi's  salute  he  spoke  with  dignity  befitting  his 
bearing. 

"I  bring  greeting  from  the  sheik  Ben  Nedi,"  he  announced. 
"He  rides  this  way  tomorrow." 

The  chief  replied,  "Mighty  is  Ben  Nedi,  and  a  man  of 
high  esteem  among  his  people.  He  shall  have  welcome  and 
all  that  Arab  hospitality  can  offer." 

Then,  leading  the  way,  Ben  Ahmed  took  the  stranger  to 


Stories  for  Telling  271 

the  tent,  where  camel's  milk  and  dried  goat's  flesh  were  set 
before  him. 

Zuleika,  on  the  sand  without,  could  hear  then*  words, 
but  the  joyous  light  was  no  longer  in  her  eyes.  Her  face 
was  drawn  in  wrinkles,  and  her  lip  quivered  as  if  she  were 
about  to  cry.  She  knew  that  the  man  expected  on  the 
morrow  was  not  only  a  powerful  chieftain,  but  a  teacher 
and  prophet  as  well,  and  that  according  to  the  Arab  custom 
every  person  in  camp,  even  to  the  lowliest  slave,  would  lay 
gifts  before  him.  For  it  is  believed  by  the  desert  people 
that  to  do  so  brings  a  blessing.  But  Zuleika,  although  she 
was  a  chieftain's  daughter,  had  nothing  to  offer,  for  the 
wealth  of  Arab  rulers  is  in  their  flocks  and  lands,  and  the 
poorest  child  of  the  West  has  more  treasures  than  had  this 
little  princess  of  the  desert. 

"If  I  had  my  baby  camel  I  could  give  that,"  she  thought 
as  she  listened  to  the  murmurs  in  the  women's  tent  and 
knew  that  all  was  excitement  there  over  the  coming  of  the 
stranger. 

But  the  camel  she  had  loved  and  petted  had  died  a  few 
weeks  before,  and  she  had  nothing  else. 

"Do  not  grieve,"  her  mother  said  when  she  saw  tears  in 
the  big  almond  eyes  and  asked  the  reason  they  were  there. 
"The  law  of  giving  does  not  apply  to  children,  and  the 
sheik  Ben  Nedi,  who  is  as  wise  as  he  is  powerful,  knows 
that  sometimes  empty  hands  give  most  of  all.  The  bless- 
ing comes  of  having  the  great  desire,  not  through  the  treas- 
ure that  is  offered." 

But  Zuleika  did  grieve,  and  the  world  seemed  very  dark. 
And  after  she  went  to  bed  she  thought  about  it  until  she 
grew  so  restless  she  could  not  lie  quietly.  So  she  crept  out- 
side and  sat  on  the  ground. 

It  was  midnight,  and  Abi  Ben  Ahmed  and  the  stranger 
slept  hi  the  tent.  The  slaves,  both  men  and  women,  were 
sleeping  too,  and  nothing  broke  the  stillness  of  the  desert 


272  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

night  save  an  occasional  breeze  that  shifted  the  loose  sand, 
or  a  stirring  among  the  animals  just  beyond.  She  sat  there 
for  a  minute,  then  stole  out  across  the  waste.  Past  the 
camel  keep  she  went,  hurrying  through  the  silver  of  the 
moonlight  until  she  came  to  a  rock  that  rose  out  of  the 
desert  like  a  grizzled  head  facing  westward.  It  was  her 
favorite  spot,  for  her  mother  had  told  her  that  a  lovely  houri 
(fairy)  once  made  her  haunt  there,  and  she  hoped  she  might 
come  back  and  do  wonderful  things  for  her  as  she  was  said 
to  have  done  in  the  long  ago.  So  she  climbed  up  and 
looked  across  the  desert. 

Away  to  the  west,  glowing  more  brightly  than  any  other 
in  the  sky,  was  the  star  that  according  to  Arab  teaching 
shines  always  over  Mecca,  the  city  of  the  Prophet.  The 
sight  of  it  made  her  grieve  more  than  ever  over  the  thought 
of  her  empty  hands,  and  she  began  to  cry. 

Then,  with  a  sound  of  wonderful  music,  a  white  creature 
rose  out  of  the  sands.  Her  beauty  was  more  radiant  than 
any  of  which  Zuleika  had  ever  dreamed,  and  jewels  of  many 
colors  glistened  in  her  hair.  Her  smile  was  wonderfully 
sweet,  and  the  girl  knew  it  must  be  the  good  fairy  returned 
to  her  old  haunt. 

"Why  do  you  weep?"  she  asked. 

Zuleika  answered  with  a  low  salaam,  "The  prophet  comes 
tomorrow,  and  I  have  nothing  to  offer  him  because  the 
baby  camel  I  would  have  given  is  dead." 

"But  you  have  a  gift  more  precious  than  the  others," 
the  fairy  spoke. 

The  little  girl  was  amazed. 

"II"  she  exclaimed.     "Why,  I  have  nothing!" 

"Ah,  but  you  have,"  came  the  low  reply.  "The  desire 
in  the  heart.  That  is  the  only  thing  worth  giving,  and 
that  you  have.  But  you  shall  have  still  another.  Come 
here  in  the  morning  at  sunrise,  and  you  will  find  it  on  the 
sands." 


Stones  for  Telling  273 

The  radiant  creature  glided  away  in  the  light,  that  dimmed 
as  she  went,  and  in  a  moment  Zuleika  could  see  only  the 
desert  and  her  father's  camp  beyond  the  rock. 

Creeping  down,  she  went  back  to  the  tent  to  bed.  But 
the  beauty  of  the  shining  creature  was  in  her  eyes  and 
brain,  and  she  could  not  sleep.  Eagerly  she  waited  for  the 
coming  of  morning,  and  as  soon  as  she  heard  a  stirring  beyond 
the  tents,  and  knew  that  Hassan,  the  camel  keeper,  was 
looking  after  the  animals,  she  bounded  out  of  bed  and  down 
to  the  place  of  rock.  Her  mother  saw  her  go,  but  thought 
nothing  about  it,  for  it  was  the  time  of  gray  dawn  when 
every  Arab  looks  in  prayer  toward  Mecca,  and  she  was 
probably  going  to  the  fairy  rock  for  her  devotions.  But 
Zuleika  thought  of  something  besides  her  prayers. 

When  she  came  to  the  spot  she  stared  around,  wondering 
if  it  could  be  the  place  she  had  visited  in  the  night.  Then 
only  a  glittering  waste  stretched  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 
Now  there  was  a  tree,  straight  and  branchless  almost  to 
the  crown,  where  from  beneath  wide-spreading  leaves  hung 
bunches  of  pulpy  fruit.  Nothing  like  it  had  been  seen  on 
the  desert  before. 

Wild  with  delight,  she  rushed  back  to  camp  and  told  of 
the  wonder. 

"A  tree  on  the  desert!"  her  father  exclaimed.  "It  can- 
not be." 

Nor  could  she  make  him  believe  so  strange  a  thing  had 
happened  until  she  led  him  to  the  spot.  But  there  it  stood, 
with  head  held  high  like  an  Arab  sheik,  and  when  he  tasted 
of  the  fruit  he  found  it  good. 

In  the  late  afternoon  of  the  following  day  the  caravan  of 
the  sheik  Ben  Nedi  came  to  the  camp  of  Abi  Ben  Ahmed. 
The  women  within  the  tents  received  him  with  singing, 
and  the  men  with  low  salaams.  Then  the  gifts  were  brought : 
the  finest  camels  of  the  herd,  turban  cloth  enough  for  ah* 
the  men  of  his  train,  and  silk,  a  portion  of  her  mother's 


274  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

marriage  dower  worth  the  price  of  many  camels.  It  had 
been  brought  by  ship  across  the  sea  and  by  caravan  over 
the  desert,  and  was  rainbow-hued  and  fine,  such  as  is  woven 
only  in  the  Vale  of  Cashmere.  The  great  man  received 
them  with  gratitude,  and  spoke  words  of  praise  for  the 
tribe  of  Ben  Ahmed.  "  Surely  nothing  more  splendid  can  be 
set  before  a  sheik,"  he  said. 

But  the  chief  smiled  and  answered,  "Not  so,  0  mighty 
prophet!  Zuleika's  gift,  the  finest  of  all,  is  yonder  on  the 
desert." 

Then  he  led  the  way  to  the  place  of  rock  and  pointed  to 
the  wonder  tree  that  had  sprung  up  in  the  night.  Ben  Nedi 
found  the  fruit  cooling  and  sweet,  and  as  he  listened  to  the 
story,  he  stood  with  dewy  eyes. 

"The  gift  of  a  child's  tears!"  he  exclaimed.  "Yes,  that 
is  most  precious  of  all.  The  Arab  will  bless  the  day  it 
came  to  be." 

And  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled.  It  still  grows  in  the 
depths  of  the  desert,  the  wonder  tree  of  the  East  that  men 
call  the  date  palm,  and  the  Arab  blesses  it  whenever  he  rides 
that  way.  He  knows  that  for  a  thousand  years  and  more 
it  has  been  the  salvation  of  the  solitary  wanderer  across  the 
wastes,  and  that  as  long  as  it  lifts  its  stately  head  above 
the  sands  he  will  have  food  from  its  fruit,  clothing  from  its 
fiber,  and  shelter  from  the  noonday  heat. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  GNOMES 
THE  Swiss  LEGEND  OF  THE  ALP  HORN 

(Geography  —  Ethics) 

In  the  days  of  long  ago  a  chamois  hunter,  caught  in  a 
storm  on  the  mountains,  took  refuge  in  a  deserted  hut.  The 
floor  was  so  wet  and  cold  that  to  stay  there  was  almost  as 


Stories  for  Telling  275 

bad  as  being  out  in  the  rain  and  hail,  and  so  he  climbed 
into  the  loft  and  lay  down  on  a  pile  of  straw. 

Just  how  long  he  slept  he  did  not  know,  but  after  a  while 
he  was  awakened  by  the  tinkle  of  bells  and  the  lowing  of 
many  cattle.  That  seemed  very  strange,  for  it  was  almost 
winter,  and  Swiss  herdsmen  drive  their  flocks  to  the  valley 
early  in  the  autumn.  Yet  as  he  looked  out  through  the  tiny 
window  he  saw  herds  on  every  alp,  herds  hundreds  strong, 
cropping  luxuriant  grass  that  grew  out  of  the  snow. 

Then  he  heard  a  noise  below  in  the  hut,  and  peeping  down 
through  a  knot  hole,  saw  three  strange-looking  little  men. 
They  were  warming  themselves  beside  a  fire  that  blazed  on 
the  hearth,  and  by  their  long  green  cloaks  and  red  caps  he 
knew  that  they  were  gnomes  of  the  Alps. 

They  were  bustling  about  and  seemed  to  be  making  cheese. 
One  of  them  stirred  the  milk  in  a  big  silver  kettle,  one 
scurried  in  and  out  of  the  hut  bringing  fresh  milk  to  add  to 
that  which  was  already  cooking,  and  one  fed  the  fire  with 
moss  and  dry  branches,  which  piled  up  out  of  the  earth. 

After  a  while  one  of  the  gnomes  poured  something  into 
the  kettle,  the  second  one  brought  out  three  golden  bowls, 
and  the  third  blew  a  blast  on  a  horn  that  was  seven  times 
as  large  as  himself. 

Then  the  hunter  heard  the  sound  of  cattle  lowing  nearer 
and  nearer,  as  if  they  were  drawn  by  the  music  of  the  horn, 
and  a  moment  later  a  voice  called  out,  "Come  down  from 
the  loft,  Moni,  and  taste  of  the  good  things  in  the  bowls." 

This  amazed  him,  for  he  was  sure  they  had  not  seen  him, 
and  how  could  they  know  his  name?  But  he  crept  down 
from  his  straw  pile,  as  he  was  bid,  and  into  the  room. 

"Choose  whichever  you  please,"  the  little  man  said,  "and 
besides  the  drink  in  the  bowl  you  will  receive  a  gift  that 
goes  with  the  liquid  of  your  choice." 

The  golden  bowls  stood  side  by  side  on  the  floor,  and 
each  one  contained  a  different-colored  liquid.  One  was 


276  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

red,  like  the  wine  of  Geneva,  one  yellow  as  the  honey  of 
Zurich,  and  the  third  was  white  like  goat's  milk.  Moni 
looked  from  one  to  the  other,  deciding  which  to  take.  He 
was  hungry  from  his  long  tramp  over  the  crags  in  the  storm 
and  needed  milk  far  more  than  honey  or  wine,  so  he  chose 
that  bowl  and  drank  greedily. 

Then  the  little  gnomes  began  to  dance. 

"Ah,"  the  cheese  maker  shouted,  "you  have  won  the 
Alp  horn!" 

"Yes,"  another  exclaimed,  "and  it  is  a  precious  gift. 
You  can  make  other  horns  like  it,  and  teach  the  people  how 
to  call  their  herds,  which  will  not  stray  away  and  be  lost  as 
happens  now.  Thus  the  herdsmen  will  become  very  pros- 
perous." 

"But  remember,  if  you  wish  to  be  happy,  you  must  give 
up  chamois  hunting,  and  never  again  kill  a  harmless  wild 
creature." 

The  gnomes  disappeared,  and  with  them  went  the  cattle, 
the  kettle,  and  the  shining  bowls.  But  the  horn  lay  where 
the  little  man  had  dropped  it,  and  as  the  hunter  looked  at 
it  he  found  it  was  pure  silver.  Catching  it  up,  he  ran  down 
the  mountain  side  to  the  hut  where  his  sweetheart  lived. 
He  told  her  the  story  and  showed  her  the  Alp  horn,  and  she 
was  very  happy;  for  she  never  had  wanted  him  to  be  a 
chamois  hunter,  as  the  life  was  full  of  danger,  and  she  loved 
the  poor  little  animals  that  he  killed.  Now  he  would  tend 
flocks  as  she  did,  and  they  would  be  happy  in  the  life  of 
herding. 

At  first  the  hunter  thought  he  could  not  change  his  ways, 
for  he  loved  to  roam  over  the  mountains  and  bound  from 
crag  to  crag  in  pursuit  of  the  fleet-footed  creatures,  but  the 
promise  of  the  gnomes  and  the  pleas  of  Heidi  persuaded 
him,  and  he  gathered  a  herd  and  tended  it  all  summer. 

He  made  an  Alp  horn  like  the  one  he  had  received  in  the 
hut  and  gave  it  to  the  maiden,  and  sometimes  as  they  tended 


Stories  for  Telling  277 

their  cattle  on  different  sides  of  the  valley,  they  would  call 
across  to  each  other,  and  they  were  happy  and  contented 
—  until,  one  evening,  he  forgot  the  warning  of  the  gnomes 
and  shot  a  chamois. 

Then  he  raised  his  horn  to  call  good  night  to  his  sweet- 
heart. But  she  did  not  answer.  He  blew  blast  after  blast, 
but  only  the  echoes  came  back,  instead  of  the  sound  of  the 
voice  he  knew  and  loved.  Darkness  fell  and  stars  flashed 
like  diamonds  above  the  snowy  Jungfrau,  and  still  he  called 
and  sought  her,  but  found  no  trace.  The  next  morning,  as 
he  moved  with  his  herd,  a  boy  told  him  of  a  strange  happening. 

"Last  night  at  sunset  time  I  was  watching  my  goats," 
he  said,  "and  saw  a  girl  standing  on  the  mountain  side 
above  her  cattle.  She  smiled  as  the  wine  color  of  the  Alpine 
glow  crept  down  toward  Chamounix,  and  throwing  back 
her  head,  sang  one  of  our  herd  songs.  Suddenly  she  dis- 
appeared, but  she  could  not  have  fallen,  and  just  then  an 
arrow  whizzed  through  the  air  and  fell  on  the  spot  where 
she  had  been  standing." 

He  took  the  arrow  out  of  his  peasant  blouse  and  showed 
it  to  the  hunter,  who  recognized  it  as  his  own,  the  one  he 
had  shot  at  the  chamois. 

Then  Moni  remembered  the  words  of  the  gnomes,  and 
knew  that  because  he  had  forgotten  their  warning  he  had 
lost  Heidi.  He  burned  his  arrows  and  sorrowfully  went  back 
to  herding,  never  again  to  shoot  a  wild  creature  of  the  hills. 
By  day  he  followed  the  cattle,  and  by  night  made  Alp 
horns,  always' thinking  of  his  sweetheart.  But  he  never 
saw  her  again.  Some  of  the  herdsmen  say  that  she  fled  in 
grief  because  he  broke  his  word  to  her,  and  some  declare  that 
the  gnomes  carried  her  away  to  an  ice  palace  in  a  crevasse. 
But  nobody  knows.  They  know  only  that  from  that  time 
forth  he  tended  flocks  and  made  Alp  horns,  until  every 
herdsman  in  the  mountains  had  one,  and  because  they 
could  keep  the  cattle  from  straying  and  getting  lost,  they 


278  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

became  more  prosperous  than  they  had  ever  dreamed  of 
being. 

Since  then  every  peak  and  valley  in  Switzerland  has  re- 
sounded to  the  notes  of  the  Alp  horn.  Throughout  the  sum- 
mer time  they  are  heard  around  the  lakes  of  Zug  and  Geneva, 
and  the  cattle  follow  them  as  the  children  of  Hamelin  town 
followed  the  music  of  the  piper.  They  echo  along  the 
Jungfrau  as  the  shepherds  behind  Interlaken  call  their 
flocks  together,  and  then*  weird  sweet  blasts  mingle  with 
the  songs  of  herd  girls  as  they  yodel  to  each  other  across  the 
ravines.  Travelers  from  every  land  smile  at  the  sound  of 
them,  for  one  of  the  charms  of  going  to  Switzerland  is  in 
hearing  the  Alp  horns ;  but  very  few  of  these  strangers 
know  that  the  mountain  people  say  the  reason  the  sound  is 
so  magical  to  the  cattle  is  because  in  the  beginning  the 
horn  came  from  the  gnomes. 


THE  DUTY  THAT  WASN'T  PAID 

(Biography  —  Music  —  Ethics) 

More  than  a  hundred  years  ago  a  man  and  his  two  chil- 
dren were  journeying  from  their  home  in  Salzburg  to  Vienna. 
They  traveled  by  the  Danube  boat,  and  Marianne,  the  sister, 
stood  by  the  rail  tossing  pebbles  into  the  water  and  watch- 
ing the  turbulent  river  swallow  them  up.  Her  dress  was 
worn  almost  threadbare,  but  her  face  was  so  sweet  and  her 
eyes  were  so  large  and  bright  that  she  looked  pretty  for  all 
her  shabbiness. 

Just  behind  her  on  the  deck  her  father  and  brother  were 
talking.  "If  we  make  some  money  in  the  city  you'll  buy 
sister  a  new  dress,  won't  you,  Father?"  little  Wolfgang 
asked. 


Stories  for  Telling  279 

Marianne  whirled  and  started  toward  him.  She  knew 
that  was  sure  to  make  her  father  sad,  and  she  called,  "Don't 
coax,  Wolfgang.  My  dress  will  do  very  well  until  we  can 
afford  to  buy  another,  and  a  new  one  will  seem  all  the  nicer 
because  of  my  having  worn  this  one  so  long." 

Her  brother  turned  his  big,  earnest  eyes  upon  her,  and 
answered,  "But,  Marianne,  I  know  you  want  one.  I  heard 
you  wish  for  it  by  the  evening  star,  and  last  night  you 
put  it  in  your  prayer." 

Father  Mozart  turned  from  them  with  a  sad  look  on  his 
face,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  deck,  wishing  very  much 
he  could  do  what  Wolfgang  asked.  But  he  was  just  a  poor 
orchestra  conductor  with  an  income  so  small  he  had  to 
stretch  it  hard  to  provide  food  and  shelter  for  his  family. 
Marianne  must  wear  the  shabby  frock  until  better  times 
began,  which  he  hoped  would  be  soon.  They  were  to  give 
some  concerts  in  the  Austrian  capital,  and  maybe  in  that 
rich,  music-loving  city  would  earn  enough  to  make  them 
more  comfortable  than  they  had  been  before.  But  until 
then  they  must  not  spend  a  penny  save  what  was  needed 
for  food  and  shelter,  because  the  customs  fee  on  the  harp 
they  carried  must  be  paid,  and  that  would  reduce  their 
little  fund  to  a  very  small  amount. 

Wolfgang,  too,  thought  about  it  as  the  boat  crept  in  and 
out  between  the  hills,  and  wondered  much  if  there  was  no 
way  in  which  Marianne  might  have  the  dress  before  they 
played  in  Vienna.  His  old  teacher  in  Salzburg  had  often 
told  him  that  there  is  a  way  out  of  every  difficulty  if  one  is 
clever  enough  to  think  of  it,  and  there  must  be  out  of  this. 
But  although  he  tried  and  tried  he  could  not  find  one.  His 
own  suit  was  bright  and  new,  for  his  birthday  was  just  past 
and  it  had  been  his  uncle's  gift.  But  Marianne  was  a  very 
shabby  little  girl,  and  he  knew  she  was  unhappy  even  though 
she  was  brave  and  sweet  about  it. 

They  were  gliding  past  the  ruins  of  the  castle  that  once, 


280  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

men  said,  had  been  the  prison  of  Richard  the  First,  Eng 
land's  Lion-Hearted  King,  when  his  enemies  took  him  cap- 
tive on  his  return  from  the  holy  wars.  Wolfgang  thought 
of  the  many  brave  things  that  soldier  ruler  had  done  during 
the  Crusades,  for  often  in  the  twilight  time  at  Salzburg,  as 
they  waited  for  the  father  to  come  from  his  work,  the  mother 
told  his  tale,  and  of  how  the  faithful  servant  Blondel  found 
him  at  last  by  singing  a  song  he  knew  the  master  loved. 

"He  was  very  brave  and  wise,  too,"  the  boy  thought  as  he 
looked  at  the  crumbling  pile.  "  He  would  have  found  a  way 
for  Marianne  to  have  a  new  dress  if  she  had  been  his  sister." 

Was  it  the  prayer  being  answered,  or  just  the  fulfillment 
of  the  wish  made  by  the  evening  star  ?  For  while  he  thought, 
an  idea  came  into  his  head.  It  was  a  good  idea,  it  seemed 
to  him,  so  good  that  it  made  him  smile.  If  it  worked  out, 
and  he  believed  it  would,  Marianne  might  have  the  dress 
she  wanted  so  much,  because  then  his  father  would  have 
more  money  to  spend. 

Just  to  the  south  they  could  see  the  great  spire  of  St. 
Stephens,  a  tall,  gray  finger  against  the  sky,  which  told 
that  Vienna  was  not  far  away.  As  it  grew  nearer  and  nearer, 
looming  up  bigger  and  plainer  before  them,  Wolfgang  thought 
more  and  more  of  his  idea,  until  when  they  reached  the 
mooring  his  eyes  were  dancing  and  his  cheeks  were  aflame. 
His  father  believed  the  thought  of  seeing  the  great  capital 
had  excited  him,  but  that  was  not  it  at  all.  He  had  a  secret 
plan  and  could  hardly  wait  until  he  knew  whether  or  not  it 
would  work  out. 

The  journey  was  ended  and  the  people  were  going  ashore. 
"Please  loosen  the  cover,  Father,"  he  said  as  Leopold 
Mozart  carried  the  harp  toward  the  customs  gate. 

"Ah,  you  are  proud  of  it!"  the  man  answered  with  a 
smile. 

Wolfgang  did  not  reply,  thinking  what  a  poor  guesser  his 
father  was.  He  watched  him  as  he  set  the  instrument  down 


Stories  for  Telling  281 

and  undid  the  wrapping,  bringing  the  polished  frame  and 
glistening  strings  into  full  view.  Then  he  went  over  and 
took  his  place  beside  the  harp  as  the  customs  officer  drew 
near,  and  Marianne  came  and  stood  beside  him.  She  had 
forgotten  all  about  her  shabby  dress  in  her  eagerness  to  find 
out  how  much  duty  they  would  have  to  pay. 

"What  have  you  to  declare?"   the  man  asked. 

"Only  a  harp,"  Leopold  Mozart  answered,  as  he  laid  his 
hand  on  their  one  treasure. 

"It  is  a  beautiful  instrument  and  valuable,"  the  official 
said  as  he  looked  at  it,  and  named  as  the  price  of  the  duty 
an  amount  so  big  as  to  cut  their  little  hoard  almost  in  half. 

Father  Mozart's  face  grew  very  serious,  and  the  merri- 
ment went  out  of  Marianne's  eyes.  But  Wolfgang  did  not 
worry  at  all.  He  still  had  that  idea  in  his  mind,  and  be- 
lieved it  would  work  out. 

Leopold  Mozart  reached  into  his  pocket  for  the  little 
sack  containing  his  savings,  but  it  was  not  necessary  to  open 
it,  for  just  as  he  was  about  to  do  so  Wolfgang  started  to 
play.  The  customs  officer  turned  with  a  start  and  listened, 
and  the  people  gathered  there  forgot  all  about  duty  charges 
as  they  crowded  around  the  little  musician.  His  tiny  hands 
swept  the  strings  as  if  his  fingers  had  some  magic  power, 
and  the  melody  they  made  was  sweeter  than  any  ever  heard 
on  that  old  wharf.  For  five  minutes,  ten,  he  kept  at  it, 
and  there  was  not  a  whisper  or  a  murmur,  only  a  sort  of 
breathless  surprise  that  one  so  young  could  play  so  wonder- 
fully. 

"What!"  one  exclaimed  as  he  finished,  "a  lad  of  his  age 
to  perform  like  that !" 

"Yes,"  the  father  answered  with  a  smile,  "he  does  well  at 
the  harp." 

"Amazing,"  the  officer  murmured,  "'tis  amazing!  I've 
heard  many  a  good  harpist  in  my  day,  but  never  any- 
thing sweeter  than  that.  Play  some  more,  boy,"  he  said. 


282  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

Wolfgang  smiled.  The  idea  was  working  out,  and  he 
was  very  glad.  Already  he  had  visions  of  a  happy  sister  in 
a  handsome  new  gown,  and  turning  again  to  the  instrument, 
he  played  even  more  beautifully  than  before,  for  the  glad- 
ness that  crept  into  his  heart  was  creeping  also  into  the 
music. 

For  some  minutes  he  picked  the  strings,  while  the  people 
listened  as  if  held  hi  a  spell,  until  the  father  said,  "We  must 
go  now,  for  it  is  getting  late,  and  we  have  yet  to  find  lodgings 
in  the  city."  And  he  handed  the  money  to  the  officer. 

But  the  man  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said,  and  his 
eyes  were  very  tender  as  he  spoke.  "A  boy  who  can  give 
as  much  pleasure  as  that  deserves  something.  Keep  the 
money  and  buy  a  present  for  him." 

As  Wolfgang  heard  the  words  he  gave  a  bound.  "  Father," 
he  exclaimed,  with  sparkling  eyes,  "buy  the  dress  for 
Marianne.  You  can  do  it  now,  since  you  have  saved  the 
customs  money." 

The  officer  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  "He  is  a  won- 
derful lad,  truly,"  he  exclaimed,  "and  as  kind  as  he  is 
wonderful!" 

"Yes,"  came  the  low  reply.  "He  has  wanted  nothing  so 
much  as  a  new  dress  for  his  sister,  and  now  he  is  happy 
because  he  thinks  she  will  get  it." 

And  she  did  get  it,  too,  a  beautiful  one  of  soft,  bright  red, 
all  trimmed  with  shining  buttons.  Wolfgang  danced  with 
delight  when  he  saw  it,  and  there  was  no  happier  child  in  all 
that  great  capital. 

They  gave  many  concerts  there,  some  before  the  royal 
family;  and  Maria  Theresa,  the  empress,  became  greatly 
attached  to  both  brother  and  sister,  gave  them  handsome 
clothes  and  beautiful  gifts,  and  forgot  all  about  affairs  of 
state  while  Wolfgang  played.  She  called  him  the  "little 
sorcerer,"  and  agreed  with  the  customs  officer  that  he  was  a 
wonderful  child. 


Stories  for  Telling  283 

Then,  after  some  weeks,  they  went  back  to  the  home  in 
Salzburg,  where  the  boy  kept  on  at  his  music,  doing  such 
marvelous  things  that  his  fame  traveled  far.  He  grew  to 
be  the  great  master,  Mozart,  at  whose  glorious  music  the 
world  still  wonders,  and  he  was  a  generous  and  sweet-souled 
man,  just  as  he  was  a  big-hearted  and  thoughtful  child. 
Many  lovely  acts  are  told  of  him,  but  none  that  shows  his 
kindness  and  tenderness  in  a  more  delightful  way  than 
when  as  a  boy  on  the  Vienna  wharf  he  charmed  the  customs 
officer  and  all  others  who  heard,  and  Marianne  had  the 
dress  for  which  she  had  wished  by  the  evening  star  with 
the  duty  money  that  wasn't  paid. 


WILHELMINA'S  WOODEN  SHOES 

(Biography  —  Art  Teaching) 

It  was  summer  time,  and  a  boy  named  Rembrandt  van 
Rijn  was  lying  on  top  of  the  ramparts  that  walled  in  the 
city  of  Leyden,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  yellow  highroad  that 
stretched  away  toward  The  Hague.  It  was  good  to  be  there 
in  the  shadow  of  the  mill  sails,  for  the  trees  beyond  were 
beautifully  green,  and  he  loved  to  watch  the  market  folk 
coming  and  going,  loved  to  see  strangers  journeying  from 
far  away  and  to  dream  of  the  time  when  he,  too,  would  fare 
forth  to  see  the  world.  Instead  of  being  a  miller  like  his 
father  and  living  always  beside  the  Leyden  ramparts,  he 
would  go  to  Amsterdam,  where  ships  sailed  in  from  the 
Indies,  and  perhaps  he  would  board  one  of  those  wonderful 
craft  and  journey  over  leagues  of  ocean  to  distant  realms 
of  the  East.  The  thought  brought  a  smile  to  his  face  and 
a  deeper  blue  to  his  eyes,  and  he  whistled  a  strain  from  an 
old  Dutch  song  of  rejoicing. 

Suddenly  he  started  up  in  surprise,  for  a  familiar  figure 


284  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

was  coming  along  the  Rhine  road.  It  looked  like  his  Uncle 
Peter,  but  that  seemed  impossible,  for  it  was  Saturday  morn- 
ing, and  his  uncle  was  an  industrious  merchant  who  was 
never  known  to  leave  his  shop  on  business  days.  Then  as 
the  man  hurried  through  the  great  gate  that  opened  into 
the  city,  Rembrandt  saw  that  it  was  his  Uncle  Peter ;  and 
his  surprise  changed  to  alarm,  for  he  believed  his  uncle's 
coming  would  mean  trouble  for  him. 

The  day  before,  in  the  Latin  school,  he  had  drawn  pictures 
on  his  cousin  Wilhelmina's  wooden  shoes  and  had  been 
caught.  She  was  quite  willing  to  have  them  decorated, 
and  laughed  merrily  at  sight  of  the  ducks  and  chickens  and 
spotted  pigs  marching  from  heel  to  toe ;  but  Mynheer  Speel- 
burg,  the  teacher,  had  a  very  different  idea.  He  considered 
that  it  was  defacing  property,  and  wasting  one's  time  as 
well.  Although  Wilhelmina  declared  it  was  all  her  fault, 
Rembrandt  was  severely  scolded,  and  the  master  sent  a 
note  home  to  his  uncle.  Now  the  uncle  was  probably  com- 
ing to  tell  the  boy's  father  about  it,  and  the  thought  sent 
all  the  brightness  out  of  the  day. 

The  merchant  did  not  notice  Rembrandt  until  he  had 
passed  the  ramparts  and  a  cawing  crow  caused  him  to  turn 
and  see  the  boy  on  top  of  the  wall.  Then  he  looked  up  and 
smiled,  which  did  not  seem  like  anger,  and  yet  —  what 
else  could  have  taken  him  from  the  shop  on  Saturday 
morning  ? 

"I've  come  to  have  a  talk  with  your  mother,"  he  said  as 
he  stopped  a  moment. 

Rembrandt  climbed  down  to  go  with  him,  hoping  that 
something  besides  the  shoes  had  brought  him,  but  the  man 
shook  his  head. 

"No,  stay  where  you  are,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  see  your 
mother  alone." 

Again  the  uneasy  feeling  surged  over  the  lad.  After  all, 
it  must  be  those  wooden  shoes,  and  he  felt  very  uncom- 


Stories  for  Telling  285 

fortable;  and  a  little  later,  when  both  mother  and  uncle 
came  from  the  house  and  hurried  to  the  mill,  he  wished 
very  much  that  he  never  had  seen  pigs  and  fowls  —  most  of 
all  that  he  had  not  drawn  them  on  his  cousin's  shoes.  Then 
his  father  called  to  him,  and  although  he  wanted  to  creep 
away  and  hide,  he  went  on  the  run. 

"Here's  the  young  rascal,"  the  uncle  said  as  the  boy 
went  in  at  the  broad,  low  door.  Rembrandt  noticed  that 
he  held  one  of  Wilhelmina's  shoes,  and  his  heart  sank. 
But  a  moment  later  he  was  as  much  amazed  as  he  had 
been  alarmed,  for  his  mother  spoke  pleasantly  and  asked, 
"Would  you  really  like  to  be  a  painter?" 

"A  painter?"  he  answered  quickly,  "More  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world." 

Then  his  father  smiled,  too,  which  seemed  strange  indeed, 
for  he  had  declared  that  his  son  never  should  become  an 
artist.  Often  Rembrandt  had  dreamed  of  being  one,  and 
when  he  spoke  to  his  mother  about  it  the  idea  seemed  to 
please  her.  But  the  sturdy  Dutch  miller  shook  his  head 
and  announced  that  his  boy  must  become  a  syndic,  one  of 
the  wise  lawgivers  of  Holland,  or  else  a  miller  like  himself. 
So,  instead  of  being  allowed  to  spend  his  days  drawing  the 
pictures  that  were  constantly  running  through  his  fancy, 
Rembrandt  had  been  sent  to  the  Latin  school  to  do  sums 
and  conjugations.  It  seemed  impossible  that  the  miller 
could  have  changed  his  mind;  but  he  had  changed  it,  for 
he  said,  "Very  well.  We  will  see  about  it." 

Then,  while  the  mill  sails  whirred  above  them,  and  the 
voices  of  passing  market  folk  came  in  through  the  open 
window,  the  merchant  uncle  told  what  seemed  to  Rembrandt 
a  wonderful  story. 

"This  morning,  as  I  was  opening  the  shop,"  he  began, 
"  Speelburg,  the  schoolmaster,  came  to  talk  about  the  pictures 
on  Wilhelmina's  shoes.  He  urged  me  not  to  be  too  hard  on 
the  lad  because  he  had  thought  much  about  it  during  the 


286  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

night  and  had  come  to  believe  that  perhaps  Rembrandt 
cannot  help  drawing.  He  is  a  wise  man,  this  Speelburg, 
and  told  me  much  of  how  the  young  masters  Giotto,  Cima- 
bue,  and  Raphael  had  made  pictures  on  stones,  sand,  and 
anything  that  would  hold  a  drawing,  and  that  their  parents 
could  no  more  prevent  it  than  they  could  keep  water  from 
running  downhill.  He  thinks  our  Rembrandt  may  be  like 
them,  and  so  he  offered  to  tend  the  shop  for  me  if  I  would 
come  and  ask  you,  his  father,  to  let  him  study  with  Master 
Swannenburg." 

Those  words  were  music  to  Rembrandt's  ears,  for  Swan- 
nenburg was  the  master  painter  of  Leyden. 

An  hour  later,  miller  and  merchant  went  through  the  old 
White  Gate  into  the  city,  and  Rembrandt  trudged  along 
beside  them,  carrying  a  roll  of  paper.  As  they  hurried  along 
the  highway  his  eyes  gleamed,  for  it  seemed  to  him  like  a 
dream  come  true,  and  the  stern  Dutch  schoolmaster  began 
to  appear  in  the  guise  of  a  fairy  godfather.  He  did  not  see 
the  market  folk  they  passed  on  the  way,  did  not  hear  the 
murmur  of  the  Rhine  sweeping  seaward  just  beyond  them, 
for  the  thought  that  he  might  become  a  painter  had  crowded 
out  all  other  things. 

Very  soon  they  reached  the  workshop  of  the  artist,  'and 
knew  what  the  great  man  thought  of  the  sketches,  for  as 
he  looked  them  over  he  murmured,  "  H'm,  h'm !  Pretty 
good!  The  old  woman's  head  is  too  small  for  her  body, 
and  a  pig  never  had  legs  as  crooked  as  that;  but  he  will 
learn,  and  if  he  is  willing  to  work  I'll  gladly  take  him  as  a 
pupil." 

So  Rembrandt  went  into  the  studio  of  the  painter,  for 
his  father  had  come  to  believe  that  he  was  intended  for 
neither  a  syndic  nor  a  miller.  He  was  so  eager  to  learn  that 
he  worked  with  all  his  might,  and  his  progress  amazed  his 
teacher,  who,  although  he  knew  he  had  talent,  had  not 
dreamed  he  could  advance  so  rapidly.  Before  two  years 


Stories  for  Telling  £87 

were  gone  his  pictures  were  better  than  those  of  Swannen- 
burg  himself,  who  said  sadly  one  day,  "I  am  no  longer  the 
master  painter  of  Ley  den." 

But  that  artist  had  a  great,  good  heart,  and  he  was  so  glad 
to  see  the  boy's  progress  that  he  helped  him  all  he  could. 

Now  it  happened,  about  the  time  the  work  of  the  miller's 
son  was  causing  Leyden  folk  to  open  their  eyes,  that  Jan 
Lievens,  who  was  a  successful  painter  in  Amsterdam,  came 
home  to  visit  his  parents,  who  were  neighbors  of  Rembrandt's 
family.  He  was  greatly  excited  over  the  work  of  his  young 
friend  and  exclaimed,  "You  must  go  back  to  Amsterdam 
with  me,  for  the  best  masters  of  Holland  are  there,  and  you 
must  study  with  them." 

The  idea  seemed  good  to  the  miller,  who  was  very  proud 
of  the  progress  of  his  son ;  so  to  Amsterdam  young  Rem- 
brandt went,  where  he  progressed  as  amazingly  as  he  had 
done  in  the  studio  of  Swannenburg.  The  great  harbor  city 
fascinated  him,  and  he  loved  to  roam  along  its  splendid 
streets  watching  the  people  hurrying  to  and  fro  or  idling  in 
groups  on  the  corners,  laughing  and  chatting  in  their  merry 
Dutch  way ;  loved  to  go  to  the  docks  where  ships  came  in 
from  the  Indies,  and  to  see  the  sunrise  and  sunset  painting 
marvelous-hued  pictures  on  the  waves  of  the  wild  North 
Sea.  Then  he  would  go  back  to  the  studio  and  work,  pic- 
turing the  men  and  women  he  saw  on  his  rambles,  the  mill 
by  the  old  White  Gate,  and  the  market  folk  he  used  to  watch 
from  the  Leyden  ramparts.  His  paintings  delighted  the 
great  of  Amsterdam  just  as  the  pigs  and  chickens  he  drew 
on  Wilhelmina's  shoes  had  delighted  the  boys  and  girls  in 
the  Latin  school,  and  he  became  rich  and  famous.  He  lived 
in  a  palace  fine  enough  for  a  prince,  and  could  have  bought 
whole  cargoes  of  those  ships  that  sailed  in  from  the  Indies ; 
and  his  wealth  seemed  all  the  more  glorious  because  he  had 
earned  it  with  the  labor  of  his  hand  and  brain.  He  married 
a  great  and  gracious  lady,  and  as  his  children  drove  through 


288  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

the  streets  in  their  fine  carriage  the  people  would  say,  "See, 
the  son  and  daughter  of  Rembrandt  van  Rijn,  the  wonder- 
ful painter." 

But  all  his  good  fortune  and  all  the  honors  heaped  upon 
him  did  not  make  him  selfish  and  overbearing.  He  never 
forgot  or  ceased  to  love  his  native  Leyden.  He  lived  in 
the  harbor  city  because  it  fascinated  him  and  was  a  better 
place  for  an  artist  than  his  childhood  town,  but  he  never 
tired  of  going  back  to  the  old  home  or  lost  interest  in  the 
pigs  and  cows  and  the  market  folk  on  the  Rhine  road.  Some- 
times on  these  visits  he  would  lie  on  the  ramparts  just  as 
he  had  done  when  a  boy,  and  strangers  journeying  to  and 
from  The  Hague  had  no  idea  that  the  grave-eyed  man  dream- 
ing there  in  the  shadow  of  the  mill  sails  was  the  famous 
painter  of  Amsterdam. 

Then,  one  day  he  died,  and  they  laid  him  to  rest  in  the 
harbor  city  where  for  so  many  years  he  had  lived  and  worked. 
The  people  of  Leyden  asked  to  have  him  taken  back  there, 
and  those  who  know  how  he  loved  it  wish  it  had  been  done ; 
for  it  would  be  pleasant  to  think  of  him  sleeping  in  the 
shadow  of  the  mill  sails,  and  perhaps  if  he  could  have  been 
asked  he  would  have  wanted  it,  too. 

Years  passed,  but  instead  of  dimming  the  glory  of  Rem- 
brandt's name  they  brightened  it.  After  his  death  his  works 
became  priceless,  and  the  world  still  prizes  them  just  as 
Amsterdam  prized  them  two  hundred  years  ago.  To  own  a 
canvas  by  this  king  of  Dutch  painters  is  to  be  rich  and 
envied,  for  it  requires  a  great  deal  of  money  to  buy  one  of 
his  paintings.  Even  the  crude  drawings  of  his  boyhood  are 
now  treasured  by  princes,  and  one  of  the  most  prized  posses- 
sions of  a  great  museum  in  Holland  is  a  pair  of  wooden  shoes. 
They  are  brown  and  clumsy  and  covered  with  marks,  half 
of  which  have  been  worn  away  by  the  staining  finger  of 
Time;  but  a  fortune  could  not  buy  them,  because  ever  so 
long  ago  they  were  worn  by  little  Wilhelmina  van  Rijn  to 


Stories  for  Telling  289 

the  Latin  school  of  Leyden,  and  were  decorated  by  the 
hand  of  a  mill  boy,  and  who  would  not  be  proud  to  own 
them  ?  That  mill  boy  became  the  immortal  Flemish  painter, 
Rembrandt,  whose  work  will  be  treasured  as  long  as  the 
world  loves  beautiful  things. 


THE  LADY  OF  STAVOREN 
RETOLD  FROM  A  DUTCH  LEGEND 

(Geography  —  Ethics) 

There  was  once,  in  Holland,  a  great  and  beautiful  city 
called  Stavoren.  It  stood  beside  the  sea,  and  many  of  the 
inhabitants  were  proud  and  rich.  They  had  houses  stately 
enough  for  royal  palaces.  They  had  gold  and  silver  plate 
and  diamonds  without  number,  and  great  oaken  chests 
filled  with  money.  Their  vessels  sailed  to  the  farthest  parts 
of  the  ocean  and  brought  back  treasures  from  every  land, 
and  as  the  wealth  of  the  people  increased  their  selfishness 
increased,  until  they  thought  of  nothing  but  their  good  for- 
tune and  had  no  pity  for  the  poor. 

Richest  of  all  the  rich  folk  in  the  city  was  a  stately,  beauti- 
ful woman.  There  was  no  home  in  Stavoren  as  princely 
as  hers,  there  were  no  jewels  as  gorgeous  or  silks  and  velvets 
as  lustrous  as  those  she  possessed,  and  when  she  drove 
through  the  streets  in  her  gold-blazoned  carriage  her  splen- 
dor dazzled  the  eyes  of  all  who  saw.  But  she  was  as  selfish 
as  she  was  rich  and  powerful,  and  always  she  pondered  in 
her  mind  the  question,  "How  can  I  become  richer  still?" 

One  day  she  summoned  the  captain  of  her  largest  vessel 
and  said,  "Make  ready  to  sail  at  once." 

"Yes,  madame,"  the  officer  replied,  "but  where  shall  I 
go  and  upon  what  mission?" 

"Where  you  go  you  must  decide  for  yourself,  for  I  care 


290  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

nothing  about  that.  But  you  must  bring  back  the  most 
precious  cargo  in  all  the  world." 

The  man  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"That  shall  I  gladly  do,  madame,"  he  said,  "if  you  will 
but  tell  me  what  you  wish.  Is  it  to  be  gold  and  silver, 
diamonds  and  jewels,  or  rare  laces,  tapestries,  and  velvets  ?  " 

The  rich  woman  tossed  her  head  and  replied  haughtily, 
"There  is  but  one  thing  in  the  world  more  precious  than 
all  others,  and  what  it  is  you  must  find  out.  I  have  given 
my  orders.  Go  now  and  fulfill  them." 

The  captain  was  greatly  troubled,  for  he  feared  the  anger 
of  his  mistress.  She  was  so  powerful  that  she  could  have 
him  thrown  into  prison  or  even  put  to  death  if  she  chose, 
and  as  he  walked  down  the  street  from  the  house  he  thought, 
"What  is  the  most  precious  thing  in  all  the  world?" 

Sometimes  he  thought  it  was  one  thing  and  sometimes 
another,  but  when  he  reached  the  shipyard  he  had  not 
decided.  He  called  to  the  officers  and  sailors  standing  there, 
told  them  of  the  woman's  strange  order,  and  said  sadly, 
"But,  alas!  I  know  not  what  it  may  be.  If  any  among 
you  can  tell,  let  him  speak." 

Every  one  thought  a  minute,  then  came  a  chorus  of  sug- 
gestions. One  officer  suggested  gold,  another  silver,  and 
another  precious  stones,  but  the  captain  was  not  sure  which 
was  right.  He  must  not  decide  too  quickly,  for  to  make  a 
mistake  would  be  a  terrible  thing. 

Silently  listening  the  sailors  stood,  for  according  to  the 
law  of  the  city  they  must  not  open  their  lips  until  the  officers 
had  had  their  say.  Then  one  of  the  group,  a  slender,  blue- 
eyed  fellow,  who  seemed  no  more  than  a  boy,  said,  "  No,  my 
captain !  The  most  precious  thing  in  the  world  is  neither 
gold  and  silver,  pearls  and  diamonds,  nor  costly  laces  and 
velvets.  It  is  wheat,  for  without  it  we  could  have  no  bread, 
and  without  bread  we  cannot  live." 

Some  of  the  officers  laughed  at  this  idea,  for  common 


Stories  for  Telling  291 

sailors  were  not  supposed  to  know  much.  But  the  cap- 
tain quieted  them,  saying,  "He  is  right.  We  will  sail  away 
and  bring  back  a  cargo  of  wheat." 

So  they  sailed  out  of  the  harbor,  and  across  the  Baltic  to 
Dantzic.  There  they  bought  a  great  cargo  of  wheat,  the 
largest  that  had  ever  been  started  out  to  sea,  and  the  cap- 
tain, delighted  with  the  purchase,  turned  the  ship's  prow 
back  toward  Stavoren  town. 

He  could  hardly  wait  to  get  to  his  mistress  and  tell  her 
what  a  wise  and  wonderful  choice  he  had  made.  She 
frowned  when  she  saw  him,  displeased  that  he  had  returned 
so  soon. 

"You  must  have  flown  like  a  pigeon,"  she  said.  "Have 
you  brought  me  the  cargo  I  ordered?" 

"Yes,  madame,"  he  replied,  bowing  low  before  her.  "I 
have  the  finest  cargo  of  wheat  that  ever  went  out  of  a  port." 

The  woman  screamed  in  anger.  "Wheat!"  she  yelled. 
"A  cargo  of  wheat !  I  told  you  to  bring  me  the  most  precious 
thing  in  the  world,  and  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have 
brought  a  common,  cheap  thing  like  wheat?" 

The  captain  was  terribly  frightened,  but  he  did  not  regret 
his  selection.  He  believed  in  the  value  of  his  cargo,  and 
tried  to  lead  the  woman  to  see  that  he  had  made  a  wise 
purchase. 

"Pardon,  madame,"  he  spoke.  "Wheat  is  not  cheap 
and  common.  It  is  in  truth  the  most  precious  thing  in  the 
world,  for  without  it  we  could  have  no  bread,  and  without 
bread  we  could  not  live." 

But  he  could  not  convince  his  mistress.  She  tossed  her 
head  and  wrung  her  hands  in  anger  and  exclaimed,  "Wheat : 
Wheat!  Go  to  the  port  and  throw  your  precious  cargo  of 
wheat  into  the  sea." 

The  captain  was  horrified. 

"Madame!"  he  exclaimed,  "surely  you  do  not  com- 
mand me  to  do  that !  Wheat  is  precious.  If  you  will  not 


292  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

have  it  yourself,  give  it  to  the  poor  and  hungry,  of  whom 
there  are  many  in  Stavoren." 

But  she  drove  him  from  the  house,  saying,  "Do  as  I  bid 
you.  In  a  few  minutes  I  shall  come  myself  to  see  if  you 
have  carried  out  my  order." 

Sadly  the  man  went  down  the  street,  wondering  how  one 
so  rich  and  beautiful  could  be  so  hard  and  unkind.  But  he 
had  no  thought  of  executing  the  order.  Instead,  he  told  all 
the  poor  he  met,  and  dispatched  messengers  to  tell  others, 
that  his  mistress  had  refused  to  accept  the  cargo  of  wheat 
and  perhaps,  if  they  came  to  the  port  and  asked  her,  she 
would  give  it  to  them. 

A  little  later  the  great  lady  of  Stavoren  drove  in  her 
gold-emblazoned  carriage  to  the  shipyard,  where  a  group  of 
men,  women,  and  children  had  joined  the  sailors  and  stood 
looking  at  the  splendid  vessel  piled  high  with  the  best  wheat 
that  ever  came  out  of  Dantzic.  But  when  she  saw  them 
her  anger  increased. 

"Have  you  carried  out  my  orders?"  she  said  to  the 
captain,  as  he  came  in  answer  to  her  summons  and  stood 
beside  the  carriage. 

"No,  madame,  not  yet,"  he  replied. 

"Then,"  the  woman  commanded,  "do  it  at  once.  Throw 
the  cargo  of  wheat  into  the  sea.  I  want  to  see,  myself." 

But  the  captain  shook  his  head.  "  See  these  poor  people," 
he  said,  pointing  to  the  hollow-eyed  men,  women,  and 
children  who  were  standing  there.  "Give  them  the  wheat, 
for  they  are  hungry." 

But  the  haughty  woman  silenced  him  and  commanded, 
"Throw  it  into  the  sea!" 

Then  the  captain  seemed  afraid  no  longer.  He  stood 
straight  and  fearless  before  her  and  declared,  "Never, 
madame  1" 

But  she  shouted  word  to  the  officers,  who  dared  not  dis- 
obey, and  amid  the  cries  and  pleas  of  the  poor,  the  cargo 


Stories  for  Telling  298 

that  would  have  meant  bread  for  thousands,  was  thrown  into 
the  sea. 

The  woman  watched  the  waters  swallow  it  up  and  smiled 
heartlessly.  Then  she  called  to  the  people,  "Did  you  see 
it  go  into  the  waves  ?  " 

"Yes,  madame,"  they  answered  sadly. 

"Yes,  madame,"  repeated  the  captain,  "and  a  day  will 
come  when  you  will  regret  what  you  have  done.  A  day  will 
come  when  you  will  be  hungry,  and  no  one  will  pity  and  help 
you." 

The  mistress  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  Then  she 
laughed  loudly.  "I,  go  hungry,"  she  exclaimed,  "I,  the 
richest  of  all  the  rich  of  Stavoren !  It  is  impossible  I" 

Then  she  took  a  diamond  ring,  held  it  up  for  the  people 
to  see,  and  tossed  it  into  the  ocean.  "When  that  ring  re- 
turns into  my  hand,"  she  said,  "I  shall  believe  what  the 
captain  has  said."  And  she  drove  away  in  her  splendid 
carriage,  and  boasted  to  the  citizens  of  what  she  had  done. 

The  next  day  one  of  her  servants  came  running  to  her  in 
wild  excitement.  "Madame,"  she  cried,  "the  cook  has  found 
this  in  the  stomach  of  a  fish  he  is  preparing  for  dinner." 
And  she  held  up  the  diamond  ring  the  woman  had  tossed 
into  the  sea  the  day  before. 

The  great  lady  of  Stavoren  opened  her  eyes  wide  and 
wider.  She  was  amazed  and  frightened,  for  she  remembered 
the  captain's  words.  "Can  it  be,"  she  thought,  "that  they 
are  to  come  true?" 

It  proved  to  be  just  as  she  feared,  for  that  same  afternoon 
she  received  word  of  the  destruction  of  all  her  ships,  of  the 
loss  of  all  her  houses  and  lands,  of  the  pillaging  of  her  chests 
of  gold.  She  was  no  longer  the  richest  woman  in  Stavoren, 
but  was  as  poor  as  any  beggar.  She  went  from  house  to 
house,  begging  for  food  as  pitifully  as  the  people  at  the  port 
had  begged  her  for  wheat,  but  no  one  helped  her,  and  at  last 
she  died  from  cold  and  hunger. 


294  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  other  rich  folk  of  Stavoren  still  lived  on  in  the  old 
selfish  way.  They  drove  through  the  streets  in  sumptuous 
carriages.  They  wore  costly  clothing  and  jewels,  they 
danced  and  feasted  and  sailed  their  vessels  out  across  the 
seas,  forgetful  of  every  one  but  themselves.  There  were 
still  many  poor  in  the  city,  but  they  neither  thought  nor 
cared  about  them.  They  believed  themselves  to  be  so  great 
and  powerful  that  nothing  could  harm  them,  and  they  re- 
fused to  listen  to  advice. 

After  a  while  the  port  of  Stavoren  became  blocked  by  a 
great  sandbank.  It  rose  just  at  the  spot  where  the  lady's 
cargo  had  been  thrown  into  the  sea,  and  was  covered  with 
wheat.  Ships  could  no  longer  go  hi  and  out.  Commerce 
was  ruined,  and  because  there  were  no  vessels  to  unload,  the 
poor  lost  the  only  way  they  had  of  making  a  living.  They 
begged  the  rich  people  to  help  them  dig  the  bar  away,  but 
they  refused.  They  had  enough  to  eat  and  plenty  of  gold, 
so  what  cared  they  for  the  distress  of  the  laborers  ? 

Then  something  else  happened.  One  night  as  they 
feasted,  a  man  came  running  into  the  banquet  hall.  "I 
have  found  two  fish  in  my  well,"  he  said.  "The  dike  is 
broken.  Protect  the  city  1  Protect  the  houses  of  the  poor 
that  are  close  to  the  sea  wall  and  will  be  swept  away." 

But  one  of  the  great  folk  said  haughtily,  "Let  the  beggars 
take  care  of  themselves.  The  sea  cannot  harm  us.  We 
must  finish  the  banquet."  They  turned  away  from  him  and 
went  on  with  their  revelry,  but  only  for  a  short  time.  A 
few  hours  later  the  entire  dike  gave  away,  and  the  ocean 
rolled  in  and  covered  the  houses,  —  not  only  the  huts  of  the 
poor  which  were  in  the  low  quarter  of  the  city,  but  even  the 
palaces  of  the  rich  who  had  declared  they  could  not  be  harmed. 
The  great  perished  as  well  as  the  humble,  and  the  waves  of 
the  ZuiderZee  rolled  where  the  banquet  laughter  had  sounded. 

It  rolls  there  still.  The  sailors  say  that  sometimes  when 
the  weather  is  fine  and  the  sea  is  smooth  as  glass,  they  see 


Stories  for  Telling  295 

spires  and  domes  and  stately  columns  far  down  under  the 
water.  They  declare,  too,  that  often  strange,  weird  music 
like  the  sound  of  distant  bells  falls  upon  their  ears,  and  then 
they  look  and  listen  and  nod  to  each  other,  for  they  think 
of  the  palaces  and  chimes  of  Stavoren,  once  the  fairest  city 
of  the  Netherlands,  submerged  hundreds  of  years  ago  while 
the  poor  cried  for  help  and  the  mighty  danced. 


THE  LUCK  BOAT  OF  LAKE  GENEVA 

A  Swiss  LEGEND 

(Geography) 

The  Alpine  herdsmen  say  that  in  the  marvelous  long  ago 
an  enchanted  boat  was  seen  gliding  up  and  down  the  blue 
waters  of  Lake  Geneva.  Neither  oars  nor  sails  were  needed 
to  speed  it  over  the  waves,  for  it  was  drawn  by  singing  swans 
and  carried  a  fairy  crew:  A  radiant  creature  in  a  robe  whiter 
than  goat's  milk  stood  on  the  prow,  her  gleaming  hair  rip- 
pling down  over  the  hem  of  her  garment.  She  bore  a  golden 
basket  of  rare  fruits  and  flowers,  and  although  she  scattered 
the  contents  with  lavish  hand  upon  the  sprites  at  her  feet, 
it  was  never  empty.  Sometimes  the  vessel  touched  the 
shore,  and  then  the  soil  around  that  spot  produced  as  never 
soil  produced  before  or  since,  and  if  any  peasant  was  so 
fortunate  as  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  boat,  he  and  his  chil- 
dren became  rich  beyond  want  and  were  blessed  and  happy 
to  the  end  of  their  days. 

For  hundreds  of  years  the  magic  ship  sailed  the  lake,  and 
as  it  touched  the  shore  frequently  and  numbers  of  peasants 
saw  it,  there  was  wonderful  prosperity  in  Old  Helvetia. 

But  a  great  misfortune  befell  the  country  and  the  glad, 
abundant  days  became  but  a  memory.  A  steamboat  was 
brought  to  Geneva,  and  it  plowed,  a  screaming,  snorting 


296  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

monster,  across  the  waters.  The  noise  terrified  the  gentle 
swans,  and  with  one  wild  cry  they  flew  away.  Never  again 
did  the  peasants  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  white-robed  fairy 
and  the  shining  sprites.  Never  again  did  the  music  of  the 
snowy  pilots  gladden  their  ears. 

The  Luck  Boat  disappeared,  and  with  it  went  prosperity 
from  the  land  of  Geneva.  But  marvelous  things  like  that 
are  never  forgotten.  Those  who  had  seen  the  fairy  craft 
in  their  youth  told  the  story  to  their  sons  and  daughters, 
who  passed  it  on  to  their  children  and  their  children's  chil- 
dren, and  although  the  mountain  folk  of  today  have  never 
beheld  it,  they  know  just  how  it  looked.  They  have  pic- 
tured it  so  often  in  their  minds,  that  their  artists  have  pic- 
tured it  on  paper,  and  so  it  has  become  the  custom  for  the 
peasants  around  Lake  Geneva  to  send  "Luck  cards"  to 
their  friends  on  New  Year's  Day.  These  are  gay,  colored 
postals  containing  a  likeness  of  the  Luck  Boat,  and  to  those 
of  whom  a  peasant  is  fondest  he  sends  as  many  as  he  can 
afford,  because  to  receive  them  is  supposed  to  bring  good 
fortune,  just  as  a  glimpse  of  the  swan-drawn  vessel  was  said 
to  do  in  the  marvelous  long  ago. 


WHY  THE  JAPANESE  LOVE  THE  STORK 
A  JAPANESE  LEGEND 

(Geography) 

Ages  ago,  in  the  Japanese  city  of  Nagasaki,  there  lived  a 
young  and  handsome  noble  named  Vasobiove.  Life  seemed 
very  beautiful  to  him.  He  loved  the  blossoms  that  are  so 
sweet  and  abundant  in  his  native  Saikaido,  loved  the  racing 
and  the  wrestling  matches,  the  sunset  on  the  purple  Gulf  of 
Sinabara,  the  evening  festivals  with  the  dances  of  the  geisha 
girls,  and  his  only  sorrow  was  the  thought  that  he  could  not 
live  forever. 


Stories  for  Telling  297 

"Alas,  to  have  to  leave  this  beautiful  world!"  he  often 
sighed. 

At  which  his  old  father  would  say,  "Fear  not,  my  son. 
By  the  time  you  are  threescore  years  and  ten  you  will  think 
differently." 

But  the  young  noble  would  shake  his  head  and  reply, 
"Nay,  nay,  I  want  to  live  always,  always." 

One  day  an  aged  pilgrim  came  into  Nagasaki  and  rested 
on  a  stone  outside  Vasobiove's  garden.  The  owner  was 
walking  under  the  tulip  trees,  and  seeing  the  sad-looking  man 
in  the  sun  and  dust  of  the  road,  called  and  bade  him  come 
into  the  shade  of  his  park. 

Leaning  heavily  upon  his  staff,  the  wanderer  came  and 
sat  down  beside  the  fountain,  and  the  young  noble  asked  him 
many  a  question  of  lands  and  men  he  had  seen. 

"Is  it  throughout  the  world  as  here  in  Japan,"  he  ques- 
tioned, "  that  people  must  die  even  while  they  yearn  to  live  ?  " 

The  aged  pilgrim  nodded. 

"Yea,"  he  answered,  "in  all  the  lands  through  which  I 
have  journeyed.  But  men  have  told  me  that  there  is  a 
region  where  death  never  comes." 

The  young  noble  leaned  forward  eagerly.  "Where  is  it," 
he  questioned,  "ah,  where?  Tell  me,  for  I  mean  to  go  to 
that  land." 

The  pilgrim  shook  his  head,  saying,  "That  you  cannot  do, 
my  son.  It  is  in  the  Happy  Islands  of  Everlasting  Life,  but 
although  mortals  have  seen  them  in  the  distance,  never  has 
one  succeeded  in  entering  there." 

"But  I  must,  I  will  reach  that  land!"  Vasobiove  ex- 
claimed. 

His  father,  who  was  old  and  wise,  begged  him  not  to  go. 

"You  will  perish  on  the  way,"  he  said  sorrowfully.  "But 
even  if  you  reach  and  enter  the  islands,  you  will  not  be  happy. 
That  which  is  best  for  us  is  given  to  us,  and  after  a  long  life, 
death  is  good." 


298  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

But  Vasobiove  shook  his  head  and  objected,  "No,  no! 
I  go  to  the  Everlasting  Islands."  And  the  next  day  he  set 
out  from  Nagasaki  in  a  boat. 

Straight  southward  he  journeyed  and  eastward.  Storms 
raged  and  tropic  heat  beat  fiercely  on  his  head,  but  he  pressed 
onward,  and  at  last,  in  spite  of  wave  and  tempest,  reached 
the  green  shore  of  Horaisan.  It  was  the  land  no  mortal 
had  ever  entered,  the  Happy  Islands  of  Everlasting  Life. 

Vasobiove's  cup  of  joy  was  full.  There  was  no  sorrow 
there,  no  birth  or  death,  no  tempest  and  black  weather  or 
flight  of  time  —  nothing  but  dancing,  music,  splendid  men 
and  beautiful  women,  with  enchanted  flowers  of  unfading 
beauty  in  the  groves  and  gardens,  and  always  iridescent 
reaches  of  the  sea  beyond.  There  were  wrestling  matches, 
such  as  were  not  dreamed  of  in  Nagasaki,  long  days  filled 
with  feasting,  and  long  nights  of  dance  and  song. 

Vasobiove  smiled  the  smile  of  the  contented. 

"At  last !"  he  said.  "It  is  good  to  know  that  I  shall  live 
forever." 

Two  hundred  years  he  spent  in  the  eternal  mirth  of  Ho- 
raisan, and  then,  somehow,  he  longed  for  other  things.  The 
music  he  had  loved  grew  wearisome,  the  never  ending  dance 
became  hateful  to  his  eyes. 

He  wanted  to  return  to  Nagasaki,  but  there  was  no  way. 
The  boat  that  had  carried  him  to  the  islands  had  long  since 
fallen  into  decay,  and  it  was  impossible  to  get  another.  He 
must  stay  forever  and  ever  in  the  land  of  dance  and  song, 
and  the  thought  became  hideous. 

Then  he  heard  a  weird  cry.  Looking  behind  him,  he  saw 
a  giant  stork  settling  on  the  bank  of  a  lake  to  catch  some  of 
the  rainbow  fish  within. 

A  happy  thought  came  to  him.  No,  he  would  not  dwell 
eternally  in  Horaisan.  He  would  go  back  to  Nagasaki. 

Catching  the  bird,  he  tamed  it,  and  one  morning  while  the 
islanders  reveled  and  the  sea  was  as  many  colored  as  the  en- 


Stories  for  Telling  299 

chanted  blossoms  in  the  gardens,  he  flew  away,  borne  by  the 
giant  stork  back  to  the  sweet  land  of  Saikaido,  back  to  the 
shining  Gulf  of  Sinabara,  and  his  native  Nagasaki.  He 
would  live  as  his  fathers  had  lived,  he  would  die  when  his 
time  came,  and  never  again  would  he  pine  for  a  land  where 
all  was  revelry  and  beauty  and  song. 

Ever  since  that  time  the  Japanese  have  loved  the  stork. 
They  picture  it  upon  their  royal  banners  and  upon  the  walls 
of  their  houses,  and  give  it  the  freedom  of  their  gardens. 
Whenever  a  youth  becomes  dissatisfied  and  yearns  for  a 
land  where  delights  are  never  ending,  they  tell  him  the  story 
of  the  man  who  went  to  the  Everlasting  Islands,  show  a 
picture  of  the  stork  that  carried  him  back  to  Nagasaki,  and 
say, 

"Even  as  it  was  with  Vasobiove,  so  would  it  be  with  you." 


WHY  GRIZZLY  BEAR  GOES  ON  ALL  FOURS 
A  SHASTA  LEGEND.    ADAPTED  FROM  BANCROFT 

(Indian  Folk  Tale  —  Geography  —  Ethics) 

Ages  ago,  before  there  were  any  mountains  or  valleys  or 
rivers  flowing  seaward,  Great  Spirit  lived  up  in  the  sky, 
higher  than  the  most  distant  star.  All  about  him  were  snow 
heaps  and  white  cloud  billows,  so  thick  he  could  not  see 
through  them,  and  he  wondered  what  lay  beyond. 

"I  will  make  a  hole  and  see,"  he  said. 

So,  taking  a  sharp  rock,  he  bored  an  opening  through  the 
cloud  floor  and  looked  below.  A  strange  sight  met  his  eyes. 
There  lay  the  world,  but  a  very  different  world  from  the  one 
we  know.  It  was  flat  like  a  table,  with  no  hills  or  valleys, 
or  rivers,  or  growing  things,  and  Great  Spirit  said,  "I  will 
build  a  teepee  there,  and  then  I  shall  make  it  better." 

The  snow  heaps  lying  around  him  made  him  think  of  a 


300  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

good  way  of  building  a  wigwam ;  so  he  pushed  some  down 
through  the  floor  window,  working  day  and  night  through 
many,  many  moons,  until  he  had  the  pyramid  white  men 
call  Mount  Shasta.  He  built  a  fire  and  lived  in  the  teepee, 
and  then  he  walked  abroad. 

It  was  a  fine  land  for  a  home,  but  lonely  and  too  flat.  He 
wanted  mountains  and  valleys ;  so  he  created  them.  Then 
he  wanted  living  and  growing  things  about  him ;  so  he  said, 
"I  will  make  men  and  animals  too." 

He  dug  holes  in  the  ground  with  his  fingers,  some  large, 
some  small,  and  when  he  breathed  into  them,  trees  of  many 
sizes  and  kinds  rose  out  of  the  earth.  Then  he  stripped 
leaves  from  the  branches  and  scattered  them  about,  and 
they  became  men.  He  caused  snow  from  the  mountain 
sides  to  melt  and  flow  in  streams,  and  now,  instead  of  the 
flat,  brown  vastness,  there  were  uplands  and  lowlands,  green 
fields  and  snowy  peaks,  and  rivers  running  seaward,  and 
other  leaves  stripped  from  the  branches  and  torn  into  bits 
became  fishes  that  swim. 

"  Now  I  shall  make  beasts  of  every  kind,"  he  said,  and  as 
he  spoke  he  smote  down  a  mighty  tree.  He  broke  it  into 
pieces,  some  large,  some  small,  which  he  turned  into  animals 
of  various  sizes  and  varying  strength.  Grizzly  Bear  he 
created  from  the  heaviest  part  of  the  trunk,  and  the  bear 
stood  before  him,  on  his  hind  legs,  straight  and  powerful 
like  a  young  hunter,  stronger  than  any  other  creature  of  the 
earth. 

It  pleased  Great  Spirit  to  have  living  creatures  around 
him,  and  he  did  not  go  back  to  the  cloud  world,  but  stayed 
in  the  teepee.  The  Indians  knew  he  was  inside,  because 
often  they  saw  the  smoke  from  his  flaming  coals  curl  far 
above  the  peaks. 

Many,  many  moons  he  dwelt  there  and  grew  so  lonely 
that  he  sent  for  Little  Daughter.  She  came  and  lived  with 
him,  made  his  moccasins  and  tended  his  fire,  and  was  happy. 


Stories  for  Telling  301 

One  day  there  was  a  mighty  storm.  The  wind  raged 
fiercely,  sending  the  smoke  back  through  the  smoke  hole 
into  Great  Spirit's  face.  He  did  not  like  that,  and  bade 
Little  Daughter  go  up  to  command  the  wind  to  stop. 

She  did  as  she  was  told,  and  put  her  head  out  through  the 
hole  to  call  to  the  wind.  But  never  having  beheld  the  world 
before,  she  grew  very  curious  at  the  strange  sights  that  met 
her  eyes,  and  leaned  out  far,  far,  to  see  all  she  could. 

Suddenly  she  fell,  and  the  wind  carried  her  to  the  land  of 
the  Grizzly  Bear.  Little  Daughter  did  not  want  to  stay  there 
and  begged  to  be  taken  back  to  the  teepee  of  her  father. 

"Let  her  stay  here  and  work  for  me,"  Mother  Grizzly 
growled,  and  Young  Grizzly  agreed,  saying,  "Yes,  let  her 
work." 

So  they  would  neither  go  with  her  nor  let  her  try  to  find 
the  way  herself. 

Great  Spirit  knew  Little  Daughter  was  in  the  land  of  the 
Grizzly  Bear,  and  he  went  to  take  her  home.  When  she  told 
him  how  she  had  begged  to  go  back,  but  was  forced  to  stay 
and  work,  he  was  very  angry. 

"I  shall  punish  you,"  he  said  to  the  bears.  "Never  again 
shall  you  walk  upright  like  a  man ;  always  you  must  go  on 
all  fours." 

Taking  Little  Daughter,  he  went  back  to  the  snow  teepee, 
and  they  lived  there  for  ages  and  ages,  always  keeping  the 
fire  burning,  and  always  the  Indians  saw  the  smoke  come  out 
through  the  smoke  hole. 

At  last  the  white  men  came,  and  as  Great  Spirit  did  not 
like  the  palefaces,  he  went  away  and  the  fire  died  out.  But 
the  teepee  they  call  Mount  Shasta  is  still  there,  although 
smoke  no  longer  curls  above  it,  and  Grizzly  Bear  still  goes  on 
all  fours,  never  standing  upright  except  when  he  is  fighting. 


302  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

THE  LUCK  BOY  OF  TOY  VALLEY 

(Geography  —  Ethics  —  Manual  Training) 

In  a  chalet  high  up  among  the  Austrian  mountains,  blue- 
eyed  Franz  was  very  unhappy  because  his  mother  and  brother 
Johan  were  going  to  Vienna  and  he  had  to  stay  at  home  with 
his  old  grandfather.  He  bit  his  lips  to  keep  back  the  tears 
as  he  watched  the  packing  of  the  box  that  was  to  carry  their 
clothing.  Then  his  mother  tried  to  comfort  him. 

"Never  mind,  lad,"  she  said.  "I'll  send  you  a  present 
from  Vienna,  and  we'll  call  it  a  'luck  gift'  and  hope  it  will 
bring  good  luck.  If  it  does  you'll  be  a  luck  boy." 

He  smiled  even  if  he  did  feel  sad.  He  had  often  heard  of 
luck  children,  for  among  the  Tyrolean  peasants  there  were 
many  stories  of  those  who  had  been  led  by  fairies  to  have 
such  wonderful  good  fortune  that  ever  afterward  they  were 
spoken  of  as  the  elf-aided,  or  "  Gliicks  Kinder,"  and  it  was 
so  delightful  to  think  about  being  one  of  them  that  he  forgot 
his  sorrow.  Of  course  it  would  be  very  fine  to  travel  down 
to  Vienna  and  go  into  the  service  of  a  rich  noble  there,  as 
his  mother  and  brother  were  to  do,  but  it  would  be  still 
better  to  be  a  "Gliicks  Kind,"  and  such  things  sometimes 
did  happen.  So  he  did  not  feel  sad  any  more,  but  whistled 
and  sang  and  helped  with  the  packing. 

Early  next  morning  the  post  chaise  rattled  up  to  the  door, 
and  Johan  and  the  mother  drove  away.  Franz  watched 
them  go  down  the  winding  white  road,  calling  after  them 
in  sweet  Tyrolean  words  of  endearment  until  they  were  out 
of  sight.  Then  he  went  back  into  the  hut  and  began  to 
sandpaper  some  blocks  that  his  grandfather  needed  for  his 
work.  The  old  man  was  a  maker  of  picture  frames,  all 
carved  and  decorated  with  likenesses  of  mountain  flowers, 
and  these,  when  sent  to  Innsbruck  and  Vienna,  brought  the 
money  that  gave  him  his  living.  The  figures  were  too  fine 


Stories  for  Telling  303 

and  difficult  for  Franz  to  carve,  but  he  could  lend  a  hand  at 
fetching  blocks  and  sandpapering.  He  worked  with  a  vim, 
for  Tyrolean  boys  think  it  a  disgrace  to  shirk,  but  all  the 
while  his  thoughts  were  on  the  luck  gift. 

"I  wonder  what  it  will  be?"  he  said  to  his  grandfather. 
They  took  turns  at  guessing,  until  it  was  time  to  feed  the 
goats  and  house  the  chickens  for  the  night. 

A  week  later  the  man  who  had  driven  Johan  and  his 
mother  away  came  by  on  his  return  from  Vienna,  and  Franz 
fairly  flew  out  to  get  his  gift. 

"It  is  something  very  big,"  he  called  to  the  old  frame 
maker  as  he  took  a  bulging  bag.  "See,  it  is  stuffed  full!" 
And  he  expected  to  find  something  very  wonderful. 

But  when  he  opened  it,  he  thought  it  wasn't  wonderful 
at  all.  There  was  a  blue  velvet  jacket,  trimmed  with  gold 
braid  and  fastened  with  glittering  buttons,  such  as  Ty- 
rolean boys  wore  in  those  days,  and  in  one  of  the  pockets 
he  found  a  shining  knife. 

"Well,  of  all  things !"  he  exclaimed  as  he  held  them  up  for 
his  grandfather  to  see.  "  It's  a  splendid  jacket,  and  the  knife 
is  a  beauty,  but  I  don't  see  where  the  luck  part  comes  in." 

But  Hals  Berner  was  old  and  wise,  and  a  knowing  smile 
played  over  his  wrinkled  face  as  he  spoke.  "It  won't  be 
the  first  time  luck  has  hidden  in  a  knife,"  he  said,  as  he  bent 
over  his  carving. 

Franz  did  not  know  what  he  meant.  He  had  always  had 
a  knife,  for  being  of  a  carver's  family  he  was  taught  to 
whittle  when  he  was  a  very  little  fellow,  and  he  had  become 
remarkably  skillful  for  one  of  his  years.  But  no  wonderful 
good  fortune  had  come  to  him,  and  he  was  very  sure  that 
although  each  of  the  presents  was  nice,  neither  would  bring 
luck,  and  he  sent  that  word  to  Johan.  But  the  brother  wrote 
back  from  the  city,  "  It  will  surely  turn  out  to  be  a  luck  gift, 
Franz.  Just  wait  and  see."  And  still  the  boy  wondered. 

Winter  came  and  icy  winds  blew  down  from  the  peaks. 


304  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

There  was  no  word  from  Vienna  now,  for  the  valley  was  shut 
in  by  a  glittering  wall,  and  travel  over  the  snow-drifted 
passes  was  impossible.  There  were  other  boys  in  the  village, 
but  each  had  his  work  indoors,  and  there  was  little  time  to 
play,  so  Franz  had  no  chance  for  games.  He  helped  his 
grandfather  part  of  the  day  and  sometimes  whittled  for  his 
own  amusement.  It  was  a  lonely  life  there  in  the  hut,  with 
just  the  old  frame  maker,  who  was  often  too  busy  to  talk,  so 
Franz  was  glad  to  do  something  to  keep  him  busy.  Now  he 
made  rings  and  tops  and  then  just  fantastic  sticks  or  blocks. 

One  day,  as  he  whittled,  his  grandfather  said,  "Why 
don't  you  make  an  animal,  Franz  ?  " 

The  boy  looked  up  in  surprise.  "I  don't  think  I  can," 
he  answered. 

"Not  unless  you  try,"  came  the  reply.  "But  if  you  do 
that  you  may  surprise  yourself." 

Franz  hated  to  have  any  one  think  he  was  afraid  to  make 
an  attempt,  so  he  exclaimed,  "  I  wonder  if  I  could  make  a 
sheep  ?  " 

"Begin  and  see,"  the  old  man  advised. 

The  boy  went  to  work.  At  first  it  was  discouraging.  After 
many  minutes  of  whittling  there  was  little  to  suggest  what  he 
had  in  mind.  But  then,  with  an  occasional  turn  of  the  knife 
by  the  frame  maker,  and  now  and  then  a  bit  of  advice,  the 
boy  began  to  see  that  a  sheep  would  grow  out  of  the  block, 
and  when  it  did  he  felt  like  a  hero  who  has  won  a  battle. 

"It  wasn't  a  bit  hard,  was  it,  lad?"  Hals  Berner  asked 
when  it  was  finished. 

And  Franz  agreed  that  it  was  not. 

That  was  the  beginning,  and  every  day  thereafter  Franz 
worked  at  his  whittling,  and  animal  after  animal  grew  under 
his  knife.  He  was  so  busy  he  did  not  have  time  to  be  lonely, 
and  had  quite  forgotten  how  sad  he  had  felt  over  having  to 
stay  at  home.  It  was  such  fun  to  see  the  figures  come  out 
of  the  wood  and  feel  that  he  had  made  them.  Of  course 


Stories  for  Telling  305 

they  were  crude,  and  not  half  so  handsome  as  those  his 
grandfather  could  have  made ;  but  any  one  could  tell  what 
they  were,  and  that  was  worth  a  great  deal. 

By  spring  he  had  a  whole  menagerie,  and  when  his  mother 
came  home  she  found  he  had  been  a  busy  boy,  and  a  happy 
one  as  well. 

"All  made  with  the  luck  knife,"  Johan  said  as  he  looked 
over  the  work. 

"So  grandfather  says,"  Franz  answered.  "It's  a  splendid 
knife,  but  I  don't  see  yet  where  the  luck  comes  in." 

And  again  the  knowing  smile  went  over  the  old  man's  face. 

One  day  soon  afterward  his  mother  had  word  from  the 
man  who  had  been  her  employer  in  Vienna  that  his  little  son 
was  not  well,  and  he  was  sending  him  to  regain  his  health  in 
the  mountain  air.  A  week  later  the  child  arrived  with  his 
nurse,  and  the  first  thing  that  attracted  his  attention  was 
Franz's  menagerie. 

"Oh!  oh!"  he  exclaimed,  "dogs,  cats,  sheep,  goats, 
lions,  elephants,  and  all  made  of  wood !  I  want  them." 

"He  means  that  he  wants  to  buy  them,"  his  nurse  ex- 
plained. "Will  you  sell  them,  Franz  ?" 

For  a  minute  the  boy  hesitated.  That  menagerie  had 
meant  many  months  of  whittling,  and  he  loved  every  animal 
in  it,  and  if  Johan  hadn't  interrupted,  probably  he  would 
have  refused. 

"Why,  Franz,"  the  brother  exclaimed,  "it  begins  to  look 
like  a  luck  knife  after  all." 

That  put  a  thought  into  his  mind  that  caused  him  to 
answer,  "Yes,  take  them.  I  can  make  some  more." 

So,  when  the  child  went  back  to  Vienna  he  took  a  wooden 
menagerie  from  the  Tyrolean  mountains.  Other  Viennese 
children,  seeing  it,  wanted  to  possess  one,  and  orders  began 
to  pour  in  to  Franz,  far  more  than  he  could  fill.  Then  other 
villagers  took  up  the  work,  until  all  over  the  valley  people 
were  making  animals  and  toys. 


306  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  work  grew  to  be  a  big  industry,  and  toys  from  the 
Grodner  Thai  were  sent  all  over  Germany,  and  even  to  the 
lands  beyond.  One  generation  after  another  went  on  with 
the  work,  and  although  it  is  two  hundred  years  since  Franz 
began  it,  the  craft  continues  there  to  this  day.  At  Christmas 
time  shops  in  every  land  are  filled  with  toys  from  the  Ty- 
rolean mountains,  and  although  they  do  not  know  the  story, 
thousands  of  children  have  been  happier  because  of  a  peasant 
boy's  whittling. 

So  out  of  the  bag  sent  back  from  Vienna  there  came  in 
truth  a  luck  gift,  and  it  wasn't  the  fine  jacket  either,  but  the 
knife  with  which  Franz  whittled  his  first  sheep.  The  boy 
had  found  out  that  luck  doesn't  mean  something  sent  by 
fairies,  but  the  doing  a  thing  so  well  that  it  brings  a  rich 
reward,  and  although  he  lived  to  be  a  very  old  man,  he 
never  got  over  being  grateful  that  his  mother  made  him 
stay  behind  when  she  and  Johan  went  to  the  city. 

The  little  valley  among  the  Austrian  Alps  is  still  called 
Grodner  Thai  on  the  maps,  but  because  of  the  animals  and 
toys  that  have  come  out  of  it,  it  is  almost  as  well  known  by 
another  name.  If  you  are  good  guessers  you  can  surely  tell 
what  it  is,  especially  if  you  know  that  the  peasants  still  speak 
of  the  lad  who  made  the  first  menagerie  there  as  the  Luck 
Boy  of  Toy  Valley. 


THE  EMPEROR'S  VISION1 

ADAPTED  FROM  THE  SWEDISH  OF  SELMA  LAGERLOF 

(Medieval  Legend  —  Ethics) 

When  Augustus  was  Emperor  of  Rome  and  Herod  was 
King  of  Jerusalem,  a  great  and  holy  night  sank  down  over 
the  earth.  It  was  the  darkest  night  that  any  one  had  seen, 

^rom  Lagerlofs  Christ  Legends.  Copyright,  1908,  by  Henry 
Holt  &  Co. 


Stories  for  Telling  307 

and  one  could  not  find  the  way  on  the  most  familiar  road. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise,  since  all  the  stars  stayed  at  home 
in  their  houses  and  the  fair  moon  hid  her  face  ? 

The  silence  was  as  profound  as  the  darkness.  The  rivers 
stood  still  in  their  courses,  the  wind  did  not  stir,  and  even  the 
aspen  leaves  had  ceased  to  quiver.  Everything  was  as 
motionless  as  if  turned  to  stone,  and  the  grass  was  afraid  to 
grow,  lest  it  disturb  the  holy  night. 

There  was  no  cruelty  or  wickedness.  Wild  beasts  did  not 
seek  their  prey,  but  lay  in  the  forest  depths  and  wondered ; 
serpents  did  not  sting  or  dogs  bark,  and  no  false  key  could 
have  picked  a  lock,  no  knife  could  have  drawn  a  drop  of 
blood. 

In  Rome,  the  mighty  city,  a  group  of  people  came  from 
the  Emperor's  palace  at  the  Palatine  and  took  the  path  across 
the  Forum  which  led  to  the  Capitol.  During  the  day  the 
senators  had  asked  the  Emperor  if  he  had  any  objection  to 
their  erecting  a  temple  in  his  honor  on  Rome's  sacred  hill, 
but  he  had  given  no  answer.  He  did  not  know  if  it  would  be 
agreeable  to  the  gods  for  him  to  own  a  temple  next  to  theirs, 
and  he  wanted  to  ascertain  their  will  in  the  matter  by  offer- 
ing a  sacrifice.  Therefore  he  and  his  trusted  friends  were 
on  their  way  to  the  Capitol. 

Augustus  let  them  carry  his  litter,  for  he  was  old  and  the 
stairs  leading  to  the  Capitol  were  long.  He  held  in  his  hands 
the  cage  of  doves  for  the  sacrifice.  No  priests  or  soldiers 
accompanied  him,  only  his  nearest  friends.  Torch  bearers 
walked  in  front  of  him  to  light  the  ways  through  the  black 
darkness,  and  behind  him  followed  slaves  who  carried  the 
tripod,  knives,  and  charcoal  for  the  sacred  fire.  He  chatted 
gayly  with  his  followers,  and  all  were  so  interested  in  the 
conversation  that  they  did  not  notice  the  stillness  over  the 
earth.  Only  when  they  reached  the  highest  point  on  Capitol 
Hill  did  they  realize  that  something  unusual  was  taking  place. 

There  they  saw  a  most  remarkable  thing.    An  old  woman, 


308  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

so  bent  and  twisted  that  at  first  they  thought  it  must  be  a 
distorted  olive  tree,  was  standing  on  the  very  edge  of  the 
cliff,  and  they  knew  her  to  be  the  sibyl  who  had  lived  as 
many  years  as  the  sand  grains  by  the  sea. 

"Why  does  she  come  from  her  cave  tonight?"  they 
whispered.  "What  does  she  foretell  for  the  Emperor  and 
the  Empire?" 

She  stood  there  as  if  she  had  gone  up  on  the  hillside  that 
she  might  see  what  was  happening  far  away,  and  the  night 
was  so  dark,  so  dark ! 

Then  Augustus  and  his  retinue  remarked  how  profound 
was  the  stillness.  They  could  not  hear  even  Tiber's  hollow 
murmur,  and  they  feared  some  disaster  was  impending. 
But  no  one  cared  to  show  that  he  was  afraid.  They  told 
Augustus  it  was  a  good  omen,  and  counseled  him  to  hurry 
with  the  sacrifice. 

The  sibyl  seemed  not  to  notice  the  Emperor's  train  mov- 
ing up  to  the  Capitol.  In  fact,  she  did  not  see  them.  She 
was  in  a  distant  land  making  her  way  over  something  higher 
than  grass  tufts.  She  was  walking  among  great  flocks  of 
sleeping  sheep. 

Then  she  saw  a  shepherd's  fire.  It  burned  in  the  middle 
of  the  field,  and  she  groped  her  way  to  it.  The  shepherds 
lay  asleep  in  its  glow,  and  beside  them  were  the  long,  spiked 
sticks  with  which  they  defended  their  flocks  from  wild 
beasts.  Jackals  with  glittering  eyes  and  bushy  tails  stole 
up  toward  the  blaze,  but  the  men  did  not  hurl  the  sticks 
at  them.  The  dogs  continued  to  sleep,  the  sheep  did  not 
flee,  and  the  beasts  of  prey  lay  down  to  rest  beside  human 
beings. 

Only  this  the  sibyl  saw.  She  did  not  know  that  a  sacri- 
ficial fire  was  being  kindled  behind  her.  She  did  not  see 
the  Roman  Emperor  take  a  dove  from  the  cage  to  use  as  an 
offering.  She  was  in  the  far  hills  of  Galilee,  among  slumber- 
ing shepherds  and  sheep. 


Stories  for  Telling  309 

Then,  wonderful  sight,  a  company  of  angels  singing  glori- 
ously flew  back  and  forth  above  the  wide  plain.  They 
moved  in  long,  swaying  lines  like  migratory  birds.  Some 
held  lutes  in  their  hands,  some  zithers  and  harps,  and  their 
songs  rang  out  as  merry  as  child  laughter,  as  carefree  as 
lark  trills.  The  shepherds  wakened,  marveling  at  what  they 
heard  and  saw,  then  rose  up  to  go  to  the  mountain  city  to 
tell  of  the  miracle. 

Behind  the  sibyl,  on  the  summit  of  Capitol  Hill,  still 
stood  the  train  of  Augustus.  But  he  did  not  make  the 
sacrifice.  Although  he  exerted  his  full  strength  to  hold 
the  dove's  frail  body,  it  flung  itself  free  and  disappeared 
into  the  night. 

And  the  shepherds,  what  of  them  ? 

They  groped  then-  way  forward  on  a  narrow,  winding  path. 
Suddenly,  in  the  light  up  there  on  the  mountain,  a  great 
heavenly  body  kindled,  and  the  city  beneath  it  glittered 
like  silver  in  the  starlight. 

All  the  fluttering  angel  throngs  hastened  thither,  shouting 
for  joy,  and  the  shepherds  hurried  so  that  they  almost  ran. 
Upon  reaching  the  city,  they  found  the  angels  had  assembled 
over  a  stable  near  the  gate.  It  was  a  wretched  structure 
with  a  roof  of  straw,  and  a  naked  cliff  for  a  wall.  But  over 
it  hung  the  star,  and  thither  flocked  more  and  more  angels. 
Some  seated  themselves  on  the  roof  or  alighted  on  the  steep 
mountain  wall  back  of  the  house,  others  poised  themselves 
in  air  on  outspread  pinions,  while  high  up,  high  up,  the  sky 
was  illuminated  by  creatures  with  wings  as  white  as  pearl. 

The  instant  the  star  kindled  over  the  mountain  city  all 
nature  awoke.  Trees  swayed,  the  Tiber  began  to  murmur, 
stars  twinkled,  and  the  moon  stood  out  of  the  sky  and  lighted 
the  world.  Out  of  the  clouds  a  dove  circled  down  and 
alighted  on  the  shoulders  of  Augustus. 

The  Emperor  was  proud  and  happy,  and  his  friends  and 
slaves  fell  at  his  feet. 


310  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"Hail,  Caesar  1"  they  cried.  "Thou  art  the  god  who  shall 
be  worshiped  on  Capitol  Hill  1" 

This  cry  of  homage  was  so  loud  that  the  sibyl  heard  it 
and  roused  from  her  vision.  She  turned  from  her  place  at 
the  edge  of  the  cliff  and  came  down  among  the  people,  so 
twisted,  so  shriveled,  so  terrifying  in  her  tangled  hair  and 
marks  of  age,  that  they  fell  back  in  awe.  With  one  hand 
she  clutched  the  hand  of  the  Emperor,  with  the  other  she 
pointed  toward  the  east. 

"Look!"  she  commanded. 

The  vaulted  heavens  opened  before  his  eyes,  and  his 
glance  traveled  slowly  to  the  distant  Orient.  He  saw  a 
lowly  stable  behind  a  steep  rock  wall  and  shepherds  kneel- 
ing in  an  open  doorway.  He  saw  a  young  mother  with  a 
child  upon  her  knees,  resting  on  a  bundle  of  straw. 

The  sibyl's  big,  knotty  fingers  pointed  toward  the  Babe. 

"Hail,  Caesar!"  she  cried  in  a  burst  of  scornful  laughter. 
"There  is  the  God  who  shall  be  worshiped  on  Capitol  Hill !" 

Augustus  shrank  back  from  her  as  from  a  maniac.  But 
upon  the  sibyl  fell  the  mighty  spirit  of  prophecy.  Her  dim 
eyes  began  to  burn,  her  hands  were  stretched  toward  heaven, 
her  voice  rang  out  with  such  resonance  and  power  that  it 
must  have  been  heard  throughout  the  world.  And  she 
uttered  words  which  she  seemed  to  be  reading  among  the 
stars. 

"Upon  Capitol  Hill  shall  the  Redeemer  of  the  world  be 
worshiped  —  Christ,  but  not  frail  mortals." 

When  she  had  said  this  she  strode  past  the  terror-stricken 
men  and  disappeared  down  the  mountain. 

On  the  following  day  Augustus  forbade  the  people  to  raise 
a  temple  to  him  on  Capitol  Hill.  In  place  of  it  he  built  a 
sanctuary  to  the  new-born  God-Child,  and  called  it  Heaven's 
Altar  —  Ara  Cosli. 


Stories  for  Telling  811 

THE  SHEPHERD  WHO  TURNED  BACK 
RETOLD  FROM  A  SYRIAN  LEGEND 

(Ethics) 

This  is  a  story  they  tell  in  Palestine  when  the  Chri:**nas 
stars  shine  out  and  Syrian  children  sit,  cross-legged  and  big- 
eyed,  in  front  of  the  old  grandfather,  listening  to  his  tales 
by  the  h'ght  of  the  charcoal  fire,  while  the  moon  flings  its 
veil  across  the  jagged  Hebron  Hills  and  the  far,  high  peaks 
out  Moab  way  are  white  as  wool. 

On  the  wonderful  night  when  the  star  in  the  east  pro- 
claimed glad  tidings  to  the  Magi,  and  these  three  wise  ones 
started  away  from  their  pleasant  homes  on  a  long  and  peril- 
ous journey,  marvelous  things  are  said  to  have  happened  in 
every  quarter  of  the  earth.  Away  in  imperial  Rome,  the 
Emperor  Augustus,  straight  and  proud  in  his  litter,  was 
borne  up  the  long  stairway  leading  to  Capitol  Hill  to  invoke 
his  gods  on  the  spot  where  the  people  were  to  erect  a  temple 
to  him.  But  suddenly  the  darkness  broke  away  and  he 
beheld  a  manger  in  a  distant  land  and  a  Babe  wrapped  in 
swaddling  clothes,  and  as  the  voices  of  his  subjects  shouted, 
"  Hail,  Caesar,  thou  art  the  god  who  shall  be  worshiped  on 
Capitol  Hill ! "  instead  of  feeling  great  and  exalted  like  a 
sovereign  he  felt  very  small  and  humble,  for  he  knew  that 
One  just  born  was  mightier  than  Caesar,  and  would  rule  not 
only  Rome,  but  all  the  earth. 

And  on  that  same  night,  where  the  mountains  break 
southward  from  Bethlehem  to  form  the  high  plateau  of  Bet 
Sahur,  there  were  shepherds  guarding  their  white-fleeced 
charges  —  six  in  all,  five  of  whom  slept  by  the  gate  of  the 
sheepfold  while  one  walked  up  and  down,  starting  when- 
ever he  heard  a  stirring  among  the  flocks  and  going  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound  to  make  sure  that  all  was  well. 

Sometimes  he  added  wood  to  the  fire,  for  the  night  was 


312  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

cold  and  a  wind  from  the  white  peaks  eastward  brought 
numbness  to  his  hands,  and  sometimes  he  stood  and  looked 
over  the  scene  he  knew  so  well  —  the  pools  of  Solomon, 
shimmering  darkly  under  the  moon,  and  the  broad  vales 
of  Boaz,  bare  and  lifeless  now,  but  yellow  with  ripened 
grain  and  gay  with  reapers'  songs  in  harvest  time.  As  a 
child  he  had  played  there  with  his  brothers,  as  a  boy  he  had 
roamed  up  and  down  the  ravines,  and  now,  alone  in  the 
darkness,  it  gladdened  him  to  live  again  those  days  in  memory. 

Midnight  drew  near,  yet  he  had  no  desire  to  sleep.  The 
world  was  very  silent,  very  still,  for  the  wind  had  died  away, 
and  the  Ilwa,  in  its  rocky  bed  below,  seemed  to  rest  instead 
of  surging  Jordan-ward.  Into  the  hoot  of  the  owls  came  a 
note  of  unwonted  tenderness,  and  even  the  cries  of  the 
jackals,  that  always  made  the  night  watch  hideous  and  sent 
terror  to  the  hearts  of  the  herders,  softened  to  a  sound  like 
a  song.  The  man  felt  the  calm  and  it  soothed  him,  and 
although  he  had  followed  the  flocks  all  day  long  and  the 
hills  were  steep  and  jagged,  he  knew  no  weariness,  but  a 
strange  sense  of  peace  and  delight,  and  as  he  looked  at  his 
companions  wrapped  in  their  rough  skin  coats  and  dream- 
ing beside  the  embers,  he  wondered  if  they  felt  in  sleep  a 
sensation  as  exquisite  as  the  one  he  experienced  awaking. 

"How  bright  the  heavens  are  tonight !"  he  thought  as  he 
looked  up  to  where  a  golden  haze  began  to  gleam  around 
the  crescent  of  the  moon.  Billions  of  stars  glittered  in  the 
purple  spaces,  and  directly  over  the  center  of  the  fold  was 
a  cluster  large  and  brilliant  that  he  had  not  seen  before. 

It  grew  warmer,  too,  and  instead  of  the  sting  of  winter 
that  had  kept  the  men  close  by  the  fire  after  darkness  fell, 
a  balm  came  into  the  air,  a  softness  like  that  of  May.  Never 
had  he  dreamed  there  could  be  such  a  winter  night,  and 
almost  he  felt  tempted  to  rouse  his  companions  that  they 
too  might  enjoy  it. 

But  suddenly  he  stiffened  and  stood  watching,  cold  with 


Stories  for  Telling^  r318 

fear.  A  glory  came,  and  across  the  sky,  which  flamed  as 
if  on  fire,  floated  a  white-winged  heavenly  host  singing  the 
glad  tidings  of  the  Messiah  come.  The  flocks  started  up 
and  ran  wildly  about  the  fold.  The  sleeping  shepherds 
wakened  and  crouched  on  the  ground,  half  dazed  with  fear. 

The  bright  ones  flew  about  the  heavens.  They  moved 
in  shining  columns  down  from  the  heights  and  fluttered 
above  the  fold,  whiter  than  the  sheep,  then  glided  across  to 
the  rugged  cliffs,  and  sat  there  as  if  on  couches  of  down.  And 
ever  as  they  marched  or  floated  or  poised  on  glittering  pin- 
ions ready  for  another  flight,  they  blended  their  voices  in  a 
triumphal  chorus  as  if  all  the  hosts  of  heaven  had  descended 
to  make  melody  among  the  Judean  hills. 

"What  is  it?"  one  of  the  shepherds  asked  in  a  voice  that 
shook. 

Then,  like  an  answering  message,  came  a  jubilant  anthem, 
"  Fear  not,  for  unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the  city  of  David, 
a  Saviour  which  is  Christ  the  Lord." 

As  if  a  soothing  hand  had  touched  their  fleeces,  the  sheep 
settled  to  rest  again ;  the  fear  left  the  hearts  of  the  shepherds, 
and  in  a  radiance  which  dimmed  and  paled  as  they  went, 
the  shining  ones  floated  upward  out  of  sight,  singing,  "Glory 
to  God  in  the  Highest,  Peace  on  Earth,  Good  Will  to  Men." 

For  several  minutes  the  keepers  of  the  flocks  stood  silent, 
too  bewildered  either  to  think  or  to  speak.  Then,  by  the 
peace  among  the  sheep  and  the  perfect  calm  of  the  night, 
they  realized  a  marvelous  thing  had  happened,  and  one  of 
the  herders  lifted  his  voice. 

"Didst  hear?"  he  spoke  in  tones  of  reverence.  "They 
say  the  Christ  is  born." 

"Aye,"  a  companion  answered,  "in  the  city  of  David, 
which  is  Bethlehem.  Let  us  go  and  seek  him."  And  his 
comrades,  speaking  agreement,  said  they  would  journey 
there  together. 

Now,  when  subjects  go  into  the  presence  of  a  loved  sov- 


314  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ereign,  they  bear  with  them  tokens  of  loyalty  and  affection. 
Those  who  are  rich  give  priceless  gifts,  and  those  who  are 
poor  offer  the  best  out  of  their  scanty  possessions  and  the 
fullness  of  their  hearts.  And  so  these  herders  of  Bet  Sahur, 
having  nothing  but  their  flocks,  each  chose  the  lamb  he 
prized  most,  and  cradling  it  tenderly  in  his  firm,  warm  arms, 
left  the  sheepfold  and  started  for  the  town. 

Down  over  the  cliffs  they  hurried,  along  perilous  slopes 
and  across  chasms  that  seemed  like  great  black  mouths 
agape ;  yet  they  did  not  fear,  for  a  light  from  above  showed 
the  path  as  plain  as  noontide  and  there  was  no  danger  of 
falling.  From  one  rock  to  another  they  proceeded,  from 
ledge  to  ledge  they  made  their  way,  and  soon  were  well  down 
into  the  ravine,  from  the  bottom  of  which  the  road  led  to 
the  town.  Directly  above,  so  close  that  had  they  looked 
up  they  could  have  counted  some  of  them,  the  sheep  lay 
white  and  shining  under  the  stars ;  but  the  thoughts  of  the 
shepherds  were  on  Bethlehem,  which,  straight  ahead,  still 
showed  a  few  flickering  tapers,  and  not  on  the  flocks  behind. 

Ben  Ezra,  he  who  had  stood  on  the  night  watch,  was  the 
most  stalwart  of  the  six,  and  he  it  was  who  led  the  descent 
to  the  valley. 

"Ah,"  he  exclaimed  when  at  last  their  feet  struck  the  white 
firmness  of  the  road,  "from  here  on  the  way  is  smooth  and 
easy.  Let  us  hasten,  brethren,  and  soon  we  shall  be  there." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  smoothed  the  fleece  of  the  warm, 
white  bundle  he  carried,  which  bleated  softly  at  his  caress. 

Just  then  was  heard  the  cry  of  a  lamb. 

The  shepherds  stopped  and  listened,  for  having  spent 
their  lives  among  the  flocks,  they  knew  the  helplessness  of 
the  sheep,  and  although  rugged,  fierce-looking  men,  their 
hearts  were  tender  toward  the  weak  and  appealing.  The 
bleat  of  a  ram  or  ewe  never  failed  to  call  them  from  their 
meals  by  day  or  their  rest  by  night ;  and  now  other  thoughts 
left  their  minds,  and  they  remembered  only  their  charges 


Stories  for  Telling  315 

alone  on  the  hill.  Then,  thinking  of  the  glory  in  the  sky 
and  the  word  of  the  heavenly  host  that  the  Christ  was  born 
in  Bethlehem,  one  of  them  said,  "Come.  Methinks  all  is 
well.  Did  we  not  feel  on  the  hills  that  God  would  take  care 
of  the  sheep  ?  Let  us  on  to  Bethlehem  and  seek  the  King." 

But  another  of  the  number,  he  who  stood  sentinel  while 
his  comrades  slept,  shook  his  head  and  demurred. 

"Nay,"  he  said.  "Take  my  lamb  and  say  'tis  the  gift 
of  Ben  Ezra,  but  I  must  go  back.  It  is  my  night  on  the 
watch,  and  a  good  shepherd  is  not  deaf  to  the  cry  of  a  sheep." 

He  gave  his  tiny  white  burden  into  the  keeping  of  one  of 
his  companions  and  turning,  hurried  back  to  the  cliffs, 
while  the  others  went  ahead  to  Bethlehem.  He  knew  it 
would  take  much  longer  to  make  the  climb  than  it  had  taken 
for  the  descent,  and  a  fear  seized  him  that  perhaps  jackals 
had  broken  upon  the  flock  and  he  might  reach  the  fold  too 
late  to  save  the  sheep.  But  as  he  moved  forward  the  mount- 
ing of  the  first  cliff  seemed  no  task  at  all.  Hands  invisible 
seemed  to  lift  him  up  the  mountain  way,  and  he  reached  the 
sheepfold  easily  and  quickly. 

A  great  relief  came.  The  flocks  lay  silent,  stirring  only 
when  a  lamb  or  ewe  moved  a  white  leg  and  turned  as  it 
slept,  but  there  was  no  sign  or  sound  of  danger,  not  even 
the  howl  of  a  jackal  away  on  the  mountain  side  or  the  mov- 
ing shadow  of  a  panther  creeping  stealthily  upon  the  fold. 
Then  he  knew  that  in  truth  God  was  watching  over  the  sheep, 
and  that  the  lamb  had  probably  cried  out  in  wonder,  even 
as  he  and  his  brethren  might  have  done. 

Secure  in  the  thought  that  the  flock  was  safe,  he  started 
down  the  mountain  toward  Bethlehem,  musing  upon  the 
strange  things  that  had  come  to  pass  that  night.  His  com- 
rades were  far  ahead,  and  he  knew  he  could  not  overtake 
them.  Perhaps  already  they  had  reached  the  town  and 
found  the  place  of  the  Child,  while  he  yet  had  a  long  way  to 
go.  But  his  feet  sped  over  the  spaces  and  he  swung  lightly 


316  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

along,  the  shaggy  skin  of  his  shepherd's  cloak  flapping  as 
he  went.  He  was  not  sorry  he  had  gone  back,  even  though 
it  meant  he  must  journey  alone,  for  there  was  a  peace  in  his 
heart  that  could  not  have  been  there  had  he  gone  ahead 
hearing  the  cry  of  a  lamb. 

At  last  he  reached  Bethlehem  and  asked  one  of  the  soldiers 
who  guarded  the  gate,  "Where  is  it  that  the  Christ  is  born ?" 

"The  Christ?"  the  man  repeated  like  one  dazed.  "He 
is  not  in  Bethlehem.  Better  get  you  back  to  the  hills,  which 
is  the  place  of  shepherds." 

Ben  Ezra  stood  firm. 

"He  must  be  here,"  he  insisted,  "for  so  sang  the  angels 
at  Bet  Sahur,  saying,  '  In  the  city  of  David,'  which  is  Beth- 
lehem." 

Whereupon  some  of  the  guardsmen  smiled  and  pointed  to 
their  heads,  and  some  laughed  jeeringly. 

There  was  one,  however,  a  tall,  gentle-faced  archer,  who 
smiled  and  spoke  kindly,  "They  say  a  man  child  has  come 
to  the  stable  beyond  the  khan,  where  Joseph  ben  David  the 
Nazarene  and  his  wife  have  taken  shelter.  You  might  try 
there." 

The  shepherd  nodded  and  thanked  him,  his  dark  eyes 
moistily  tender  and  hi  his  face  a  light  that  silenced  the 
mockers. 

"  Thither  will  I  go,"  he  exclaimed,  and  hurried  on  his  way, 
bowing  his  head  reverently  as  he  came  in  sight  of  the  place. 

Now  it  happened  when  Ben  Ezra  reached  the  stable 
where  Joseph  ben  David  was  abiding  because  of  the  mul- 
titude in  the  khan,  that  he  found  the  Child  lying  in  a  manger, 
and  the  other  shepherds  who  had  gone  before  knelt  beside 
Him,  looking  into  His  gentle  eyes  and  marveling.  Around 
them  on  the  ground,  softly  bleating  as  if  they  too  under- 
stood the  marvel  and  rejoiced  in  it,  were  the  lambs  the  men 
had  brought  as  offerings  to  the  Babe;  and  some  of  the 
townsfolk  too  were  there,  murmuring  in  awed  tones  and 


Stories  for  Telling  817 

looking  on  the  scene  in  wide-eyed  wonder.  No  one  noticed 
the  herder  who  entered  late,  or  saw  him  fall  on  his  knees 
beside  the  manger.  But  as  his  sturdy  head  drooped  low, 
the  Child  lifted  His  tiny  hand  as  if  in  blessing  and  smiled 
down  on  Ben  Ezra's  upturned  face;  and  then  the  keepers 
of  the  sheep  knew  that  thus  God  had  chosen  to  reward  him 
who  had  not  been  deaf  to  the  cry  of  a  lamb. 

For  many  a  year  after  that  time,  the  Syrian  herders  say, 
Ben  Ezra  tended  his  sheep  on  the  hills.  Through  summer 
and  winter  he  abode  in  the  pasture  place,  his  only  respite 
from  toil  being  the  rare  visits  he  made  to  the  village  where 
his  wife  and  wee  ones  dwelt ;  but  he  never  was  weary,  and 
his  flocks  never  went  astray.  To  his  children  and  his  chil- 
dren's children  he  told  the  story  of  how  he  went  back  to  the 
hills  that  night  and  how  he  was  rewarded,  bidding  them  to 
be  ever  mindful  of  the  fact  that  he  who  is  tender  to  the  sheep 
serves  well  a  higher  Master.  And  as  years  rolled  into  dec- 
ades  and  centuries  passed  away,  all  the  herders  of  Judea 
came  to  know  the  story  and  to  shape  their  lives  by  it,  so  that 
to  this  day  the  Syrian  shepherds  have  remained  men  of  tender 
heart  and  simple  faith.  And  when  strangers  visit  the  land 
and  wonder  at  the  gentleness  of  the  keepers  of  the  flocks, 
some  old  grandfather  or  brown-eyed  boy  is  ever  ready  to 
explain  what  it  is  that  has  kept  them  sweet  and  serene,  and 
tells  the  story  of  Ben  Ezra,  the  shepherd  who  on  the  won- 
derful night  went  back  to  the  hills,  and  so  came  late  to 
Bethlehem.  

THE  PET  RAVEN 
A  LEGEND  OF  THE  RHINE 

(Geography  —  Ethics) 

One  autumn  morning  a  thousand  years  ago,  a  boy  and  a 
girl  stood  in  a  forest  path  beside  the  Rhine.  His  great  eyes, 
brown  and  full  of  feeling,  looked  wistfully  into  the  face  of  the 


318  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

golden-haired  maiden,  while  his  clumsy  hands  stroked 
tenderly  the  glossy  feathers  of  a  young  raven. 

"Father  says  it  is  a  poor  gift  to  offer  a  princess,"  he  said 
as  he  held  the  bird  toward  her,  "but  I  have  nothing  else. 
Will  you  please  take  it?" 

Blue-eyed  Willeswind  smiled.  She  was  the  petted  child 
of  a  baron  and  accustomed  to  receiving  gifts,  but  something 
about  this  boy's  earnestness  touched  her  in  an  unusual  way. 
He  was  only  a  forester's  son,  with  but  little  to  break  the 
monotony  of  his  life  of  toil,  and  it  seemed  wonderful  that  he 
should  be  willing  to  part  with  his  only  treasure. 

"I  cannot  take  your  only  pet,  Rupert,"  she  said  kindly, 
"but  it  is  good  of  you  to  offer  it." 

Disappointment  crept  into  the  boy's  dark  eyes. 

"  Oh,  please,"  he  pleaded.  "  I  want  you  to  have  it,  because 
you  bound  up  my  foot  with  healing  herbs  when  I  tore  it  on 
the  brambles  in  the  wood.  Please  take  it." 

The  girl  answered  with  a  smile  that  made  her  face  very 
lovely,  "Of  course  I  shall  take  it,  and  I  will  keep  it  always 
because  you  gave  it  to  me."  Reaching  over,  she  took  the 
fluttering  creature  from  the  big  dark  hands,  and  stroked  it 
gently  as  it  quivered  at  the  strange  touch.  Then  she  made 
her  way  back  to  the  castle  over  a  carpet  of  fallen  leaves,  while 
Rupert  the  forester's  son  hurried  to  the  hunting  lodge,  happy 
in  the  thought  that  he  had  made  a  gift  to  her  who  had  been 
kind  to  him. 

"She  will  keep  it  and  feed  it  and  be  glad  I  did  not  forget," 
he  thought  as  he  fed  the  falcons  that  evening,  while  up  in  the 
castle  court  Willeswind  was  busy  with  her  pet. 

"See  how  glossy  its  feathers  are  1"  she  said  as  her  brother 
Othmar  came  near.  "Rupert  gave  it  to  me,  and  I  promised 
to  keep  it  always." 

The  young  squire  laughed.  "A  raven  is  sure  to  be  a 
bother,"  he  said.  "Better  let  it  fly  into  the  woods." 

Willeswind  shook  her  golden  head.     "No,  no,"  she  ex- 


Stories  for  Telling  319 

claimed,  "  I  like  it.  Your  horses  and  hounds  and  falcons  are 
far  more  bother  than  one  raven,  yet  you  would  not  think  of 
being  without  them." 

Othmar  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  out  to  his  archery 
practice,  thinking  how  soon  his  sister  would  tire  of  the  bird. 
But  she  did  not  tire  of  it.  It  was  different  from  any  pet  she 
had  ever  owned,  and  she  cared  for  it  and  trained  it. 

Seven  years  passed,  and  the  brother  had  grown  from  a 
squire  to  a  knight,  and  upon  the  death  of  his  father  the  baron, 
became  lord  of  the  castle.  Willeswind  too  had  changed  from 
the  slender  maid  who  stood  under  the  November  trees  with 
Rupert  the  forester's  son.  She  was  now  the  stateliest  of  all 
the  great  ladies  on  the  Rhine.  But  her  hair  was  still  the 
color  of  sun-kissed  straw,  and  her  eyes  the  same  sympathetic 
ones,  as  blue  as  wood  gentians.  Rupert  was  tall  and  stal- 
wart, one  of  the  sturdiest  vassals  of  Castle  Stolzenfels,  and 
although  Willeswind  seldom  saw  him,  she  remembered  him 
kindly  because  he  had  given  her  the  pet  raven  which  she 
still  kept  and  loved.  She  spent  many  hours  teaching  it 
tricks,  and  the  bird  was  so  clever  that  it  learned  rapidly. 
Sometimes  it  flew  into  the  forest  and  came  back  with  flowers 
and  leaves  for  its  mistress.  Sometimes  it  winged  its  way 
across  the  river  and  brought  sprigs  of  the  sweet  wild  berries 
growing  there. 

Everything  was  bright  about  the  castle,  for  the  young 
master  and  mistress  were  kind  to  those  who  served  them, 
and  there  were  no  happier  vassals  along  the  Rhine  than  theirs. 

One  day  in  springtime,  when  the  elder  flowers  were  creami- 
est and  swallows  were  teaching  their  nestlings  to  fly,  a 
stranger  came  riding  along  the  river.  Past  the  postern  gate 
his  armored  steed  dashed,  and  straight  he  sat  in  his  saddle 
as  he  called  to  Lord  Othmar. 

"  I  bring  a  challenge  from  the  great  lord  who  is  my  master," 
he  spoke  defiantly  as  the  young  knight  moved  forth  to  meet 
him.  With  flashing  eyes  he  tossed  his  gauntlet  to  the  ground. 


320  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

A  murmur  went  among  the  vassals  who  stood  by.  To 
throw  down  a  gauntlet  was  to  invite  war,  and  all  waited  for 
the  master  to  act.  But  the  silence  was  only  for  a  minute. 
Then  came  a  shouting  and  clashing  of  arms,  for  with  defiance 
in  his  face  Othmar  picked  up  the  glove  and  flung  it  back  at 
the  rider.  That  meant  war,  which  in  those  days  was  believed 
to  be  a  glorious  thing. 

The  strange  knight  rode  away  along  the  Rhine  shore  as 
rapidly  as  he  had  come,  while  in  the  great  courtyard  of  Castle 
Stolzenfels  began  the  marshaling  of  vassals  and  preparation 
for  fighting.  The  women  burnished  arms  and  gave  all  the 
aid  they  could,  while  the  Lady  Willeswind  moved  here  and 
there,  making  suggestions  where  they  were  needed.  All 
night  long  the  sound  of  clanging  armor  was  heard,  and  the 
next  morning,  when  the  men  of  Castle  Stolzenfels  went  out 
of  the  castle  gate  to  meet  the  enemy,  Rupert  the  forester's 
son  marched  at  the  head  of  the  vassals. 

Willeswind  stood  at  the  tower  window  and  watched  them 
go  along  the  winding  river  road,  thinking  sadly  of  the  days 
and  nights  of  danger  into  which  they  went.  Perhaps  they 
would  not  return.  Perhaps,  too,  some  robber  band  might 
pillage  the  castle  while  they  were  away,  for  all  the  able- 
bodied  men  had  gone  to  battle,  and  in  those  days  many 
brigand  hordes  ravaged  the  Rhine  valley,  which  the  handful 
of  old  men  at  Stolzenfels  would  not  be  able  to  hold  back. 
But  she  was  brave,  and  although  danger  threatened,  she 
faced  it  as  a  baron's  daughter  should. 

Autumn  came,  with  swallows  and  martins  flying  south- 
ward, and  still  the  battling  raged  away  in  the  northland, 
sometimes  with  victory  for  Othmar  and  his  men,  sometimes 
with  defeat,  but  always  with  dread  for  the  anxious  hearts  of 
those  who  waited  at  home. 

One  night  the  wind  raged  like  a  mad  thing,  whipping  the 
Rhine  into  foam.  As  the  castle  mistress  sat  in  the  great 
hall  among  the  women,  a  servant  entered,  saying  that  a 


Stories  for  Telling  821 

pilgrim  stood  at  the  outer  gate,  begging  shelter  from  the  night 
and  storm. 

"He  is  white  and  bent,"  the  man  explained.  "Shall  I 
let  him  come  inside?" 

Willes wind's  heart  was  big  and  tender.  "Yes,  let  him 
come,"  she  said. 

A  moment  later  he  followed  the  servant  through  the  hall 
to  the  sleeping  quarters,  a  hobbling  figure  leaning  heavily 
on  a  staff.  Willeswind  pitied  him  as  he  went  by,  but 
thought  his  face  seemed  hard  and  cruel. 

A  few  days  later  she  sat  alone  with  her  maid,  in  that  same 
great  hall,  looking  happier  than  she  had  looked  for  many 
weeks.  "A  courier  came  by  with  word  from  Othmar,"  she 
said.  "He  sends  greetings,  says  the  worst  of  the  fighting  is 
over,  and  soon  they  will  be  home.  I  feel  quite  safe  again." 

Suddenly  the  door  was  violently  thrust  open.  The  maid 
screamed  and  Willeswind  turned  pale,  for  a  man  in  heavy 
armor  strode  into  the  room.  She  knew  he  was  one  of  the 
dreaded  robber  barons  who  terrorized  the  Rhine  valley,  and 
knew  too,  as  she  looked  into  his  savage  face,  that  it  was  the 
same  man  who,  in  the  guise  of  a  pilgrim,  had  sought  shelter 
there  a  few  nights  before. 

"I  have  come  to  take  you  with  me,"  he  said  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  "for  I  mean  you  to  be  my  wife." 

Willeswind  shuddered.  She  knew  how  wicked  and  cruel  he 
was,  and  that  it  was  her  great  wealth  he  craved,  for  Stolzen- 
fels  was  one  of  the  richest  estates  on  the  river.  "That  can 
never  be,  sir,"  she  answered  haughtily.  "So  go  back  whence 
you  came." 

He  looked  at  her  with  an  evil  smile.  "You  give  me  a 
blithe  refusal  now,"  he  exclaimed,  "but  in  three  days  I  will 
come  again  and  it  will  be  sad  for  you  if  I  get  not  a  different 
answer." 

The  robber  chief  strode  out,  and  Willeswind  and  the 
trembling  maid  looked  at  each  other  in  terror. 


322  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

"My  lady,"  the  woman  spoke,  as  soon  as  the  outer  gate 
clanged  and  they  knew  the  man  was  beyond  hearing,  "you 
must  get  away  from  here." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  mistress,  "I  must  leave  Stolzenfels 
and  seek  refuge  at  some  other  castle." 

So  that  same  afternoon  a  little  cavalcade  wended  its  way 
through  the  woods,  over  the  carpet  of  leaves  that  late  autumn 
had  whipped  from  the  trees.  It  was  Willeswind  and  her 
attendants,  bound  for  the  home  of  another  baron,  where  she 
would  be  protected  until  the  return  of  Othmar  and  his  men. 
Beside  her  rode  Hulda  the  maid,  and  on  her  shoulder  sat  the 
pet  raven. 

But  they  did  not  go  far.  Suddenly  from  behind  some 
thickly  growing  brush  a  band  of  horsemen  appeared.  One 
rider,  taller  and  heavier  than  the  others,  called  out  orders  to 
his  men. 

"To  my  castle  I"  he  shouted. 

Willeswind  knew  well  they  were  the  tones  of  the  robber 
baron,  and  that  she  was  now  a  prisoner  in  his  power. 

Sad  indeed  was  her  heart  as  the  men  turned  her  horse's 
head  away  from  her  road  to  safety,  and  tears  came  into  her 
blue  eyes  as  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Stolzenfels  towers. 

"Oh,  my  home,"  she  murmured,  "when  shall  I  see  you 
again?" 

On  they  went  through  the  forest,  along  that  part  of  the 
river  whose  gray  cliffs  she  had  known  since  childhood,  then 
into  unfamiliar  country  as  they  neared  the  castle  of  the 
robber  chief. 

"If  only  they  will  let  us  stay  together,"  she  murmured  to 
Hulda  as  they  drew  rein  at  the  gate. 

They  rode  hi  through  the  courtyard,  and  then,  dismount- 
big,  the  baron  led  the  two  women  up  a  winding  stairway  to 
the  tower. 

"Here  you  may  stay,"  he  said  savagely,  "and  decide  what 
to  do." 


Stories  for  Telling  323 

Then,  striding  out,  he  bolted  the  heavy  door. 

They  looked  around.  The  windows  were  covered  with 
an  iron  grating,  and  there  was  no  possible  way  of  escape. 

"We  cannot  get  away,"  said  Hulda,  "so  let  us  make  the 
best  of  it  and  find  something  to  eat,  for  I  am  hungry." 

But  there  was  no  food  about  the  place,  and  they  realized 
then  that  he  meant  to  starve  Willeswind  into  obeying  him. 

But  suddenly  a  bright  thought  came  to  her,  and  she  smiled. 

"He  cannot  do  it,  though,  for  I  have  my  raven."  And 
stroking  its  glossy  wings  she  said,  "Berries,  pet,  berries." 

Her  hours  of  training  had  been  well  spent.  For  as  if  it 
understood,  the  bird  spread  its  shining  wings  and  flew  out 
between  the  grating.  After  a  while  it  returned  with  a  sprig 
of  crimson  berries,  the  fragrant,  juicy  Rhine  buds,  and  laid 
them  in  its  mistress'  lap. 

Many  trips  it  made  during  the  days  that  followed,  and  the 
woodland  fruit  kept  the  women  from  starvation,  for  it  con- 
tained both  nourishment  and  water. 

So,  instead  of  growing  weak  and  wan,  they  kept  their 
strength,  and  the  baron  could  not  understand  how,  with 
neither  food  nor  water,  Willeswind  remained  strong  and  well, 
and  as  defiant  as  ever.  But  to  Willeswind  and  Hulda  it  was 
no  mystery,  and  they  were  full  of  gratitude  to  the  raven. 

One  morning  Hulda  stood  by  the  window,  looking  out  over 
the  woods  at  the  sunlight  on  the  river.  Suddenly  she  gave 
an  excited  cry.  "Some  horsemen  are  riding  up  the  Rhine 
road !"  she  exclaimed.  "They  are  coming  this  way." 

Willeswind  flew  to  the  casement  and  watched  as  they  drew 
near.  Straight  along  the  forest  path  they  advanced,  so  close 
that  the  watchers  could  see  their  faces. 

"Oh !"  cried  the  lady  of  Stolzenfels.  "It  is  Othmar  and 
his  men.  The  war  is  over  and  they  are  coming  home." 

She  called  loudly,  waving  her  handkerchief  between  the 
grating,  and  Othmar  saw  and  heard.  "We  are  up  here, 
prisoners  in  the  tower  1"  she  shouted,  as  he  galloped  nearer. 


324  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

And  a  minute  later  the  Stolzenfels  men  were  battering  at  the 
castle  gate. 

"For  your  mistress,  comrades!"  called  Rupert  the 
forester's  son,  as  he  led  the  charge. 

The  robber  baron  knew  the  Stolzenfels  force  was  too  strong 
for  him  to  hold  out  against,  for  with  right  on  their  side  they 
had  even  greater  strength.  He  surrendered,  and  the  captives 
were  freed. 

The  Stolzenfels  towers  never  looked  as  fair  to  their  owners, 
as  when  on  the  return  they  beheld  them  through  the  trees. 
It  was  a  joyful  homecoming  to  both  lord  and  vassal,  and  to 
the  raven,  for  he  flew  in  and  out  of  its  windows  as  if  overcome 
with  gladness.  Othmar  watched  its  joyous  flight  with  a 
smile. 

"We  will  always  keep  the  bird,"  he  said,  "for  it  saved  you 
from  the  baron's  power." 

And  they  did  keep  it  until  it  died.  Then,  in  memory  of 
its  service,  they  placed  its  stone  image  on  the  castle  gate  and 
carved  its  likeness  on  the  Stolzenfels  shield. 

Centuries  passed.  The  robber  bands  that  had  been  the 
terror  of  the  Rhine  valley  became  a  part  of  the  past,  and 
Castle  Stolzenfels  fell  into  decay,  for  hundreds  of  years  being 
one  of  the  noblest  ruins  on  the  river.  Then  the  German 
emperor  restored  it.  He  rebuilt  the  crumbling  towers  and 
bastions  where  bats  made  their  nests,  furnished  it  after  the 
fashion  of  long  ago,  and  today  it  is  a  favorite  summer  home 
of  the  imperial  family.  And  still  on  the  outer  gate  a  stone 
raven  stands,  and  to  all  who  know  the  Rhine  stories  it  speaks 
eloquently  of  that  olden  time  when  knights  were  bold,  and 
of  a  gratitude  offering  made  by  the  forester's  son  to  the 
daughter  of  the  castle. 


Stories  for  Telling  325 

JUSSIEU  AND  THE  HELIOTROPE 

(Science  —  Nature  Study) 

In  the  year  of  Our  Lord  1735,  Joseph  de  Jussieu,  the 
famous  botanist,  came  into  the  presence  of  Louis  the  Fif- 
teenth and  besought  him  to  give  his  royal  sanction  to  a 
mission  that  was  considered  very  wonderful  in  those  days. 

"  I  would  go  to  South  America  to  study  the  plant  life  there," 
he  said,  "and  mayhap  I  may  discover  something  that  will 
bring  glory  to  France." 

The  king  looked  with  favor  upon  the  venture,  and  a  little 
later  the  botanist  and  his  attendants  sailed  out  of  the  port  of 
Havre,  toward  the  distant  land  of  the  Andes. 

Many  months  they  were  on  the  way,  now  tossing  on  the 
high  seas  at  the  mercy  of  wind  and  wave,  now  threading  a 
perilous  path  through  the  selvas.  At  last  they  ascended  the 
snow-capped  Cordilleras,  examining  every  tree  and  plant  they 
found. 

"We  will  take  back  seeds  of  every  rare  specimen,"  Jussieu 
said,  "and  great  will  be  the  rejoicing  in  France." 

One  day,  as  the  botanist  and  his  men  made  then-  way  from 
a  deep  ravine  up  a  sunny  slope,  they  smelled  something  won- 
derfully fragrant. 

"  Such  a  powerful  odor  must  come  from  a  gigantic,  gorgeous 
flower,"  the  naturalist  said.  And  they  searched  eagerly, 
each  man  anxious  to  discover  the  prize.  But  the  only  gor- 
geous flower  they  found  was  a  clump  of  flaming  peonies, 
which,  although  regally  beautiful,  were  devoid  of  fragrance. 

Then  one  of  the  men  stumbled  upon  a  plant  bearing 
clusters  of  tiny  purple  blossoms.  The  odor  was  very  heavy 
around  it,  and  he  knew  he  had  found  the  perfume  giver. 

"  Ah !"  he  exclaimed  in  disappointment,  "it  is  not  half  so 
stately  as  our  fleur-de-lis." 

Jussieu  came  and  examined  it  with  great  interest,  and 


326  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

although  it  was  a  small,  unpretentious  flower,  thought  it  a 
precious  find.  He  noticed  that  the  most  perfect  blossoms 
were  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  plant,  and  that  they  seemed  to 
reach  the  sun.  He  named  it  "heliotrope,"  from  Greek  words 
meaning  "to  turn  toward  the  sun,"  and  when  he  returned  to 
France  took  with  him  some  of  the  seeds,  which  were  planted 
in  the  royal  garden. 

The  princesses,  who  were  always  looking  for  something 
novel,  became  greatly  excited  about  the  purple  blossoms 
from  the  Andes.  They  called  it  the  flower  of  love,  and  no 
bouquet  was  deemed  fit  to  offer  a  court  lady  that  did  not  con- 
tain at  least  a  sprig  of  it.  Being  greatly  in  demand,  it  was 
very  costly.  People  speculated  in  it,  and  for  a  time  fortunes 
were  won  and  lost,  as  during  the  tulip  craze  in  Holland. 

Then,  after  a  while,  when  ah1  the  florists  grew  quantities 
of  heliotrope,  it  became  so  common  that  it  went  out  of  favor 
as  the  court  flower.  But  it  was  just  as  popular  as  ever,  be- 
cause it  had  lost  none  of  its  grace  and  fragrance.  It  grew 
in  the  gardens  of  the  people,  and  there  was  no  peasant  too 
poor  to  own  a  plant. 

So  the  dainty  heliotrope  that  is  still  the  favorite  of  the 
gardens  is  a  traveled  and  storied  flower.  It  grew  on  the  slope 
of  the  Andes.  It  crossed  the  broad  seas  and  was  planted  in 
a  royal  garden.  It  gladdened  the  peasants  and  townsfolk 
of  Lorraine  and  Brittany  and  Provence,  and  still  it  scatters 
its  fragrance  and  reaches  out  its  petals  toward  the  sun. 


THE  FALL  OF  LONDON  BRIDGE 

(History) 

Almost  everybody,  whether  he  be  ten  or  seventy-five,  has 
played  the  good  old  game  of  London  Bridge,  but  not  every- 
body knows  that  once  upon  a  time  the  bridge  really  did  fall 
down. 


Stones  for  Telling  327 

It  was  nine  hundred  years  ago  —  before  William  the  Con- 
queror was  born,  and  the  United  States  had  not  even  been 
thought  of.  Up  in  the  cold,  white  northland  lived  a  race 
of  fearless  vikings,  and  down  in  pleasant  England  reigned 
a  weak,  unable  king.  His  name  was  Ethelred,  and  because 
he  was  always  behind  time  with  his  plans  and  his  work, 
people  called  him  the  Unready,  and  in  the  day  in  which 
he  lived  it  was  a  very  serious  thing  for  a  king  to  be 
unready. 

Ever  since  the  Danes  had  discovered  what  a  fair  land 
England  was,  they  had  wanted  to  take  it.  They  came  with 
their  armies  in  King  Alfred's  time.  They  returned  again 
during  the  reign  of  his  sons,  and  when  young  Ethelred  as- 
cended the  throne  and  word  went  forth  of  how  unable  and 
unready  he  was,  their  boats  brought  a  mighty  army  and  sur- 
rounded the  island.  Danish  soldiers  camped  on  the  broad 
English  moorlands,  Danish  songs  echoed  through  the  woods 
of  Kent  and  Surrey  and  sounded  in  the  streets  of  London 
town.  The  invaders  were  in  full  possession  of  the  city. 
They  held  the  royal  castle,  and  their  generals  slept  in  King 
Ethelred's  beds,  while  he  had  to  take  a  bunk  wherever  he 
could  find  one.  They  were  bold,  brave,  and  strong.  They 
had  leaders  who  knew  not  the  meaning  of  fear  and  were  al- 
ways ready,  and  it  seemed  that  this  time  they  would  take  the 
kingdom. 

Yet  they  didn't  take  it  after  all,  for  there  were  other  brave, 
bold  men  who  came  to  Ethelred's  aid. 

Twenty  ships  sailed  down  from  the  seas  of  Norway,  twenty 
goodly  vessels  bearing  blue  and  crimson  sails,  for  the  boy 
king  Olaf,  who  dwelt  in  the  far  north  country,  had  heard  of 
the  plight  of  Ethelred  the  Unready  and  said  to  his  men, 
"Let  us  go  and  fight  for  him  as  we  fight  for  our  own  land." 

At  these  words  the  soldiers  cheered  and  bent  to  the  oars, 
and  thus  they  went  to  England. 

In  from  the  sea  they  came  and  up  the  broad  green  Thames 


328  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

toward  London  town.  The  people  along  the  river  despaired 
at  sight  of  their  standard,  for  they  thought  another  army 
was  coming  to  attack  them.  But  the  sorrow  turned  to  re- 
joicing when  King  Ethelred  met  them  just  below  the  city, 
and  Olaf  said,  in  loud,  clear  tones,  "I  have  brought  my 
soldiers  to  fight  for  thee." 

Then  there  rang  out  such  a  blast  of  welcome  as  never 
English  war  horns  sounded  before  or  since. 

Olaf  lost  no  time.  The  men  of  the  north  country  fought 
for  the  love  of  fighting,  and  he  was  eager  to  hurl  his  army 
against  the  Danes. 

"First  we  will  take  the  fort  they  have  built  to  command 
the  Thames,"  he  exclaimed.  "Then  we  will  drive  them 
from  the  city." 

King  Ethelred  shook  his  head. 

"It  will  not  be  easy  to  do  that,"  he  said.  "Thrice  already 
my  army  has  tried  it,  but  the  Danish  soldiers  are  thick  on 
London  Bridge.  We  cannot  get  near  enough  to  attack  the 
fort,  because  whenever  the  ships  start  up  the  river  arrows 
and  spears  and  stones  come  down  upon  them  and  they  are 
driven  back." 

King  Olaf  stood  thinking  and  did  not  answer.  Finally 
he  said,  "Then  we  must  tear  down  the  bridge." 

Ethelred  looked  at  him  as  if  he  thought  him  crazy.  "  Tear 
down  the  bridge!"  he  repeated  in  amazement.  "That  is 
impossible.  London  Bridge  is  strong,  and  neither  of  us  has 
an  army  of  giants." 

Young  Olaf  looked  at  him  and  smiled,  thinking  how  little 
this  man  knew  of  warfare. 

"Do  as  I  bid  you,"  he  said,  "and  you  shall  see  it  fall." 

Ethelred  had  little  faith  hi  the  viking's  words,  but  he  was 
in  so  terrible  a  plight  that  he  was  willing  to  do  anything  that 
might  pull  him  out  of  it.  Who  wouldn't  be,  with  a  Danish 
general  sleeping  in  his  bed? 

King  Olaf  gave  some  orders  to  his  men.    Then  he  said  to 


Stories  for  Telling  329 

Ethelred,  "Bring  your  ships  alongside  mine,  and  we  will  get 
them  ready." 

He  ordered  the  men  to  make  broad,  flat  roofs  for  every 
vessel,  for  he  knew  they  could  not  tear  down  London  Bridge 
unless  protected  from  the  spears  and  arrows  of  the  Danes. 
The  enemy  had  seized  so  much  of  King  Ethelred's  lumber 
that  he  hadn't  half  enough  to  make  the  roofs,  so  they  tore 
down  houses  that  the  command  might  be  carried  out. 

Finally  everything  was  ready,  and  the  fleet  of  England 
and  the  fleet  of  Norway  moved  side  by  side  up  the  Thames. 
The  Danish  soldiers  laughed  as  they  saw  the  queer-looking 
vessels  coming  toward  them,  thinking  what  fun  it  would  be 
to  drive  back  the  boats  of  Ethelred  the  Unready,  as  they  had 
done  several  times  before.  But  the  Danes  didn't  know  as 
much  as  they  thought  they  knew,  and  although  their  spears 
and  arrows  flew  fast,  the  lumbering  warships  came  on. 

Then  the  soldiers  on  the  bridge  shot  their  bows  and  threw 
their  javelins  as  they  had  not  done  before.  They  hurled 
great  rocks  down  upon  the  vessels,  damaging  some  of  them 
so  much  that  they  had  to  turn  back.  But  they  did  not  harm 
or  frighten  Olaf  the  viking.  He  called  to  his  men  and  cheered 
them  on,  and  nearer,  nearer  these  good  ships  came,  until  they 
were  close  to  the  piles  of  London  Bridge. 

Then  they  stopped  a  moment,  still  under  the  ram  of  stones 
and  spears  and  arrows,  and  the  Danish  soldiers  wondered 
what  it  meant.  They  could  not  see  the  thick,  strong  cables 
that  were  wound  around  the  heavy  supports  of  the  bridge. 
They  could  not  see  the  soldiers  of  Olaf  lash  the  other  ends 
fast  to  the  vessels.  But  a  moment  later  they  understood 
all  they  had  not  seen.  The  ships  turned  with  a  sudden 
spurt.  The  Danish  soldiers  felt  a  mighty  tug  and  pull.  The 
roofed  warships  darted  down  the  river,  and  then  was  heard 
the  fall  of  London  Bridge. 

How  joyfully  the  men  of  England  shouted,  for  now  they 
could  push  ahead  and  attack  the  fort.  They  took  it  too,  and 


330  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

drove  the  enemy  out  of  the  city.  Danish  warriors  no  longer 
slept  under  satin  covers  in  the  castle  of  King  Ethelred. 
Danish  songs  no  longer  resounded  through  the  woods  of 
Kent  and  Surrey  and  across  the  broad,  sea-lapped  moorlands. 
The  soldiers  routed  the  Danes  and  drove  them  out  of  the 
country,  and  Olaf  the  boy  viking  sailed  back  to  his  far,  white 
northland,  rejoicing  in  the  thought  that  he  had  saved  his 
kingdom  to  Ethelred,  which  he  could  not  have  done  but  for 
the  fall  of  London  Bridge. 


HOW  THEY  CAME  TO  HAVE  KITE  DAY  IN  CHINA 
RETOLD  FROM  A  CHINESE  FOLK  TALE 

(Physical  Education) 

In  the  lovely  province  of  Kwang  Tung,  a  sage  named 
Ng  Chew  lived  in  the  far-off  time.  He  not  only  was  versed  in 
the  lore  of  past  and  present,  but  knew  future  events  as  well, 
and  used  his  knowledge  and  his  power  to  benefit  mankind. 

One  night  in  a  vision  he  saw  that  a  pestilence  was  about 
to  sweep  over  the  valley  in  which  he  lived,  and  his  first  thought 
was  that  he  must  save  his  people.  He  went  from  house 
to  house  telling  the  news  and  bidding  every  one  flee  with 
him  to  the  mountains,  and  a  few  hours  after  he  started  on 
his  mission  the  homes  in  the  lowlands  were  deserted. 

Up  on  the  heights  the  people  were  safe  in  the  crisp,  clean 
air.  But  after  many  days  had  passed  they  wanted  to  return 
to  their  homes.  They  thought  of  the  growth  in  the  rice 
fields  and  of  the  approaching  harvest  time.  "We  have  been 
here  long  enough,"  they  declared.  "By  this  time  the  dan- 
ger is  over  and  we  ought  to  go  back."  But  the  wise  Ng 
Chew  knew  it  was  not  safe  to  return,  and  urged  them  to  stay. 
There  were  a  few  who  would  not  listen  to  his  words.  They 
started  back  to  the  lowlands,  and  Ng  Chew  wondered  how  he 


Stories  for  Telling  381 

could  keep  the  others  on  the  mountain.  Then  a  happy 
thought  crossed  his  mind.  He  set  everybody  to  making 
and  flying  kites,  and  soon  had  them  so  interested  that  they 
were  glad  to  stay. 

Days  afterward,  when  he  knew  the  danger  was  past,  he 
led  them  back  to  the  valley.  Then  they  realized  what  a 
blessed  thing  he  had  done  in  keeping  them  on  the  mountain, 
for  all  who  had  refused  to  stay  there  with  him  had  died  of 
the  pestilence. 

The  people's  hearts  were  filled  with  gratitude  toward  the 
man  who  had  saved  them. 

"We  will  honor  Ng  Chew  as  long  as  he  lives,"  they  said. 
"When  his  birthday  comes  we  will  all  fly  kites." 

This  they  did.  Each  year,  on  the  birthday  of  Ng  Chew, 
they  left  the  rice  fields  and  spent  the  day  flying  kites. 

The  word  spread  beyond  the  little  valley  and  from  prov- 
ince to  province,  until  all  over  the  land  kite  flying  marked 
the  birthday  of  the  sage  of  Kwang  Tung.  The  wise  man 
died  and  centuries  passed,  but  still  the  Chinese  keep  Kite 
Day,  honoring  him  who  in  the  long  ago  led  his  people  to 
safety  hi  the  mountains. 


THE  STORY  OF  A  STONE 
BY  DAVID  STARR  JORDAN 

(Science) 

Once  on  a  time,  a  great  many  years  ago,  so  many,  many 
years  that  one  grows  very  tired  in  trying  to  think  how  long 
ago  it  was ;  hi  those  old  days  when  the  great  Northwest  con- 
sisted of  a  few  ragged  and  treeless  hills,  full  of  copper  and 
quartz,  bordered  by  a  dreary  waste  of  sand  flats,  over  which 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  rolled  its  warm  and  turbid  waters  as  far 
north  as  Escanaba  and  Eau  Claire ;  in  the  days  when  Mar- 


332  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

quette  Harbor  opened  out  towards  Baffin's  Bay,  and  the 
Northern  Ocean  washed  the  crest  of  Mount  Washington  and 
wrote  its  name  upon  the  Pictured  Rocks ;  when  the  tide  of 
the  Pacific,  hemmed  in  by  no  snow-capped  Sierras,  came 
rushing  through  the  Golden  Gate  between  the  Ozarks  and  the 
north  peninsula  of  Michigan,  and  swept  over  Plymouth  Rock 
and  surged  up  against  Bunker  Hill ;  in  the  days  when  it  would 
have  been  fun  to  study  geography,  for  there  were  no  capitals, 
nor  any  products,  and  all  the  towns  were  seaports  —  in  fact, 
an  immensely  long  time  ago  there  lived  somewhere  in  the 
northeastern  part  of  the  state  of  Wisconsin,  not  far  from  the 
city  of  Oconto,  a  little  jellyfish.  It  was  a  curious  little  fellow, 
about  the  shape  of  half  an  apple,  and  the  size  of  a  pin's  head ; 
and  it  floated  around  in  the  water,  and  ate  little  things,  and 
opened  and  shut  its  umbrella  pretty  much  as  the  jellyfishes  do 
now  on  a  sunny  day  off  Nahant  Beach  when  the  tide  is  coming 
in.  It  had  a  great  many  little  feelers  that  hung  down  all 
around  like  so  many  little  snakes ;  so  it  was  named  Medusa, 
after  a  queer  woman  who  lived  a  long  while  ago,  when  all 
sorts  of  stories  were  true.  She  wore  snakes  instead  of  hair, 
and  used  to  turn  people  into  stone  images  if  they  dared  to 
make  faces  at  her.  So  this  little  Medusa  floated  around, 
and  opened  and  shut  her  umbrella  for  a  good  while,  —  a 
month  or  two,  perhaps;  we  don't  know  how  long.  Then 
one  morning,  down  among  the  seaweeds,  she  laid  a  whole 
lot  of  tiny  eggs,  transparent  as  crab-apple  jelly,  and  smaller 
than  the  dewdrop  on  the  end  of  a  pine  leaf.  That  was  the 
last  thing  she  did ;  then  she  died,  and  our  story  henceforth 
concerns  only  one  of  those  little  eggs. 

One  day  the  sun  shone  down  into  the  water  —  the  same  sun 
that  shines  over  the  Oconto  sawmills  now  —  and  touched 
these  eggs  with  life ;  and  a  little  fellow  whom  we  will  call 
Favosites,  because  that  was  his  name,  woke  up  inside  the 
egg,  and  came  out  into  the  world.  He  was  only  a  little  piece 
of  floating  jelly,  shaped  like  a  cartridge  pointed  at  both  ends, 


Stories  for  Telling  333 

or  like  a  grain  of  barley,  although  very  much  smaller.  He 
had  a  great  number  of  little  paddles  on  his  sides.  These 
kept  flapping  all  the  time,  so  that  he  was  constantly  in  motion. 
And  at  night  all  these  little  paddles  shone  with  a  rich  green 
light,  to  show  him  the  way  through  the  water.  It  would 
have  done  you  good  to  see  them  some  night  when  all  the  little 
fellows  had  their  lamps  burning  at  once,  and  every  wave  as 
it  rose  and  fell  was  all  aglow  with  Nature's  fireworks,  which 
do  not  burn  the  fingers  and  leave  no  smell  of  sulphur. 

So  the  little  Favosites  kept  scudding  along  in  the  water, 
dodging  from  one  side  to  the  other  to  avoid  the  ugly  crea- 
tures that  tried  to  eat  him.  There  were  crabs  and  clams  of  a 
fashion  neither  you  nor  I  shall  ever  see  alive.  There  were 
huge  animals  with  great  eyes,  savage  jaws  like  the  beak  of  a 
snapping  turtle  and  surrounded  by  long  feelers.  They  sat 
in  the  end  of  a  long,  round  shell,  shaped  like  a  length  of  stove 
pipe,  and  glowered  like  an  owl  in  a  hollow  log ;  and  there  were 
smaller  ones  that  looked  like  lobsters  in  a  dinner  horn.  But 
none  of  these  caught  the  little  fellow,  else  I  should  not  have 
had  this  story  to  tell. 

At  last,  having  paddled  about  long  enough,  Favosites 
thought  of  settling  in  life.  So  he  looked  around  till  he  found 
a  flat  bit  of  shell  that  just  suited  him.  Then  he  sat  down 
upon  it  and  grew  fast,  like  old  Holger  Danske  in  the  Danish 
myth,  or  Frederick  Barbarossa  in  the  German  one.  He  did 
not  go  to  sleep,  however,  but  proceeded  to  make  himself  a 
home.  He  had  no  head,  but  between  his  shoulders  he  made 
an  opening  which  would  serve  him  for  mouth  and  stomach. 
Then  he  put  a  whole  row  of  feelers  out,  and  commenced 
catching  little  worms  and  floating  eggs  and  bits  of  jelly  and 
bits  of  lime,  —  everything  he  could  get,  —  and  cramming 
them  into  his  mouth.  He  had  a  great  many  curious  ways, 
but  the  funniest  of  them  all  was  what  he  did  with  the  bits  of 
lime.  He  kept  taking  them  in,  and  tried  to  wall  himself  up 
inside  with  them,  as  a  person  would  "stone  a  well,"  or  as 


334  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

though  a  man  should  swallow  pebbles  and  stow  them  away 
in  his  feet  and  all  around  under  the  skin,  till  he  had  filled 
himself  all  full  with  them,  as  the  man  filled  Jim  Smiley's 
frog. 

Little  Favosites  became  lonesome  all  alone  in  the  bottom 
of  that  old  ocean  among  so  many  outlandish  neighbors.  So 
one  night,  when  he  was  fast  asleep  and  dreaming  as  only  a 
coral  animal  can  dream,  there  sprouted  out  from  his  side, 
somewhere  near  where  his  sixth  rib  might  have  been  if  he  had 
had  any  ribs,  another  little  Favosites ;  and  this  one  very 
soon  began  to  eat  worms  and  to  wall  himself  up  as  if  for  dear 
life.  Then  from  these  two  another  and  another  little  bud 
came  out,  and  other  little  Favosites  were  formed.  They  all 
kept  growing  up  higher  and  cramming  themselves  fuller  and 
fuller  of  stone,  till  at  last  there  were  so  many  and  they  were 
so  crowded  together  that  there  was  not  room  for  them  to 
grow  round,  and  so  they  had  to  become  six-sided  like  the  cells 
of  a  honeycomb.  Once  in  a  while  some  one  in  the  company 
would  feel  jealous  because  the  others  got  more  of  the  worms, 
or  would  feel  uneasy  at  sitting  still  so  long  and  swallowing 
lime.  Such  a  one  would  secede  from  the  little  union  without 
even  saying  "good-by,"  and  would  put  on  the  airs  of  the 
grandmother  Medusa,  and  would  sail  around  in  the  water, 
opening  and  shutting  its  umbrella,  at  last  laying  more  eggs, 
which  for  all  we  know  may  have  hatched  out  into  more 
Favosites. 

So  the  old  Favosites  died,  or  ran  away,  or  were  walled  up 
by  the  younger  ones,  and  new  ones  filled  their  places,  and  the 
colony  thrived  for  a  long  while,  until  it  had  accumulated  a 
large  stock  of  lime. 

But  one  day  there  came  a  freshet  in  the  Menominee  River, 
or  in  some  other  river,  and  piles  of  dirt  and  sand  and  mud 
were  brought  down,  and  all  the  little  Favosites'  mouths  were 
filled  with  it.  This  they  did  not  like,  and  so  they  died ;  but 
we  know  that  the  rock  house  they  were  building  was  not 


Stories  for  Telling  335 

spoiled,  for  we  have  it  here.  But  it  was  tumbled  about  a 
good  deal  in  the  dirt,  and  the  rolling  pebbles  knocked  the 
corners  off,  and  the  mud  worked  into  the  cracks,  and  its 
beautiful  color  was  destroyed.  There  it  lay  in  the  mud  for 
ages,  till  the  earth  gave  a  great,  long  heave  that  raised  Wis- 
consin out  of  the  ocean,  and  the  mud  around  our  little 
Favosites  packed  and  dried  into  hard  rock  and  closed  it  in. 
So  it  became  part  of  the  dry  land,  and  lay  embedded  in  the 
rocks  for  centuries  and  centuries,  while  the  old-fashioned 
ferns  grew  above  it,  and  whispered  to  it  strange  stories  of 
what  was  going  on  above  ground  in  the  land  where  things 
were  living. 

Then  the  time  of  the  first  fishes  came,  and  the  other  animals 
looked  in  wonder  at  them,  as  the  Indians  looked  on  Columbus. 
Some  of  them  were  like  the  little  gar-pike  of  our  river  here, 
only  much  larger,  —  big  as  a  stove  pipe,  and  with  a  crust  as 
hard  as  a  turtle's.  Then  there  were  sharks,  of  strange  forms, 
and  some  of  them  had  teeth  like  bowie  knives,  with  tempers 
to  match.  And  the  time  of  the  old  fishes  came  and  went, 
and  many  more  times  came  and  went,  but  still  Favosites  lay 
in  the  ground  at  Oconto. 

Then  came  the  long,  hot,  wet  summer,  when  the  mists 
hung  over  the  earth  so  thick  that  you  might  have  had  to 
cut  your  way  through  them  with  a  knife ;  and  great  ferns 
and  rushes,  big  as  an  oak  and  tall  as  a  steeple,  grew  in  the 
swamps  of  Indiana  and  Illinois.  Their  green  plumes  were 
so  long  and  so  densely  interwoven  that  the  Man  in  the  Moon 
might  have  fancied  that  the  earth  was  feathering  out.  Then 
all  about,  huge  reptiles,  with  jaws  like  the  gates  of  doom  and 
teeth  like  cross-cut  saws,  and  little  reptiles  with  wings  like 
bats,  crawled,  and  swam,  and  flew. 

But  the  ferns  died,  and  the  reptiles  died,  and  the  rush 
trees  fell  in  the  swamps,  and  the  Illinois  and  the  Sangamon 
and  the  Wabash  and  all  the  other  rivers  covered  them  up. 
They  stewed  away  under  layers  of  clay  and  sand,  till  at  last 


336  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

they  turned  into  coal  and  wept  bitter  tears  of  petroleum. 
But  all  this  while  Favosites  lay  in  the  rocks  in  Wisconsin. 

Then  the  mists  cleared  away,  and  the  sun  shone,  and  the 
grass  began  to  grow,  and  strange  animals  came  from  some- 
where or  nowhere  to  feed  upon  it.  There  were  queer  little 
striped  horses,  with  three  or  four  hoofs  on  each  foot,  and  no 
bigger  than  a  Newfoundland  dog,  but  as  smart  as  ever  you 
saw.  There  were  great  hairy  elephants,  with  teeth  like 
sticks  of  wood.  There  were  hogs  with  noses  so  long  that 
they  could  sit  on  their  hind  legs  and  root.  And  there  were 
many  still  stranger  creatures  which  no  man  ever  saw  alive. 
But  still  Favosites  lay  in  the  ground  and  waited. 

And  the  long,  long  summer  passed  by,  and  the  autumn,  and 
the  Indian  summer.  At  last  the  winter  came,  and  it  snowed 
and  snowed,  and  it  was  so  cold  that  the  snow  did  not  go  off 
till  the  Fourth  of  July.  Then  it  snowed  and  snowed  till  the 
snow  did  not  go  off  at  all.  And  then  it  became  so  cold  that 
it  snowed  all  the  time,  till  the  snow  covered  the  animals,  and 
then  the  trees,  and  then  the  mountains.  Then  it  would 
thaw  a  little,  and  streams  of  water  would  run  over  the  snow. 
Then  it  would  freeze  again,  and  the  snow  would  pack  into 
solid  ice.  So  it  went  on  snowing  and  thawing  and  freezing, 
till  nothing  but  snowbanks  could  be  seen  in  Wisconsin,  and 
most  of  Indiana  was  fit  only  for  a  skating  rink.  And  the 
animals  and  plants  which  could  get  away,  all  went  south  to 
live,  and  the  others  died  and  were  frozen  into  the  snow. 

So  it  went  on  for  a  great  many  years.  I  dare  not  tell  you 
how  long,  for  you  might  not  believe  me.  Then  the  spring 
came,  the  south  winds  blew,  and  the  snow  began  to  thaw. 
Then  the  ice  came  sliding  down  from  the  mountains  and  hills 
and  from  the  north  toward  the  south.  It  went  on,  tearing 
up  rocks,  little  and  big,  from  the  size  of  a  chip  to  the  size  of 
a  house,  crushing  forests  as  you  would  crush  an  eggshell,  and 
wiping  out  rivers  as  you  would  wipe  out  a  chalk  mark.  So 
it  came  pushing,  grinding,  thundering  along,  —  not  very  fast, 


Stories  for  Telling  337 

you  understand,  but  with  tremendous  force,  like  a  plow 
drawn  by  a  million  oxen,  for  a  thousand  feet  of  ice  is  very 
heavy.  And  the  ice  plow  scraped  over  Oconto,  and  little 
Favosites  was  torn  from  the  place  where  he  had  lain  so  long ; 
but  by  good  fortune  he  happened  to  fall  into  a  crevice  of  the 
ice  where  he  was  not  much  crowded,  else  he  would  have  been 
ground  to  powder  and  I  should  not  have  had  this  story  to 
tell.  And  the  ice  melted  as  it  slid  along,  and  it  made  great 
torrents  of  water,  which,  as  they  swept  onward,  covered  the 
land  with  clay  and  pebbles.  At  last  the  ice  came  to  a  great 
swamp  overgrown  with  tamarack  and  balsam.  It  melted 
here;  and  all  the  rocks  and  stones  and  dirt  it  had  carried 
—  little  Favosites  and  all  —  were  dumped  into  one  great 
heap. 

It  was  a  very  long  time  after,  and  man  had  been  created, 
and  America  had  been  discovered,  and  the  War  of  the  Revo- 
lution and  the  Civil  War  had  all  been  fought  to  the  end,  and 
a  great  many  things  had  happened,  when  one  day  a  farmer 
living  near  Grand  Chute,  in  Outagamie  County,  Wisconsin, 
was  plowing  up  his  clover  field  to  sow  to  winter  wheat.  He 
picked  up  in  the  furrow  a  curious  little  bit  of  "petrified 
honeycomb,"  a  good  deal  worn  and  dirty,  but  still  showing 
plainly  the  honey  cells  and  the  bee  bread.  Then  he  put  it 
into  his  pocket  and  carried  it  home,  and  gave  it  to  his  boy 
Charley  to  take  to  the  teacher  and  hear  what  he  would  say 
about  it.  And  this  is  what  he  said. 


LIST  OF  STORIES  BY   MONTHS  FOR  EACH 

GRADE 

FIRST  GRADE 

September 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:    The  Gingerbread  Man,  The   Whale  and   the 

Elephant  (Stories  to  Tell  to  Children). 
COE,  FANNY  E. :  Three  Billy  Goats  Gruff  (First  Book  of  Stories  for  the 

Story-Teller). 

HEBER,  ELIZABETH:  Coming  and  Going  (A  Child's  Story  Garden). 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  How  Flax  Was  Given  to  Men  (Book  of  Nature 

Myths). 
LINDSAY,  MAITD  :   Dust  under  the  Rug,  Giant  Energy  and  Fairy  Skill 

(Mother  Stories). 

PERRAULT,  CHARLES  :   Red  Riding  Hood  (Fairy  Tales  from  Perrautt). 
SLY,  W.  R. :  Boots  and  His  Brothers  (World  Stories  Retold). 

October 

ARNOLD,  SARAH  L. :  Columbus,  the  Boy  of  Genoa  (Stepping  Stones  to 
Literature  —  Book  3). 

BAILEY,  C.  S. :   Bobby  Squirrel's  Busy  Day  (Story-Telling  Time). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  Little  Jackal  and  the  Camel  (Stories  to  Tell 
to  Children). 

COE,  FANNY  E. :  The  Boy  and  the  Wolf,  The  Sun  and  the  Wind  (First 
Book  of  Stories  for  the  Story-Teller). 

DILLINGHAM,  E.  T. :  A  Hallowe'en  Story  ("  Tell  It  Again"  Stories). 

GRIERSON,  E.  W. :  The  Smith  and  the  Fairies  (Book  of  Celtic  Stories'). 

LANG,  ANDREW:   The  Witch  (Yellow  Fairy  Book). 

POTTER,  BEATRIX  :  Squirrel'  Nutkin,  Bunny  Cottontail  (Squirrel  Nut- 
kin). 

POULSSON,  EMILIE  :  The  Thrifty  Squirrels  (In  the  Child's  World). 

RHYS,  ERNEST  :  The  Witch  That  Was  a  Hare  (English  Fairy  Book). 

November 

BAILEY,  C.  S. :  The  Kid  Who  Would  Not  Go  (Firelight  Stories). 
CHADWICK,  MARA  L.  PRATT-  :   Stories  of  the  Pilgrim  Babies  (Stories  of 

Colonial  Children). 
COE,  FANNY  E. :  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  Tom  Thumb  (First  Book  of 

Stories  for  the  Story-Teller). 

341 


342  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

DILLINGHAM,  E.  T.,  and  EMERSON,  A.  P. :    Gretchen  and  the  Magic 

Fiddle  ("  Tell  It  Again"  Stories). 

KEYES,  ANGELA  M. :    Lazy  Jack  (Stories  and  Story-Telling). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Ears  of  Wheat  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 
POULSSON,  EMILIE:    The  Chestnut  Boys,  The  Crane  Express  (In  the 

Child  World). 

WHITE,  ELIZA  O. :   A  Thanksgiving  Dinner  (When  Molly  Was  Six). 
A  Thanksgiving  at  Hollywood,  Grandmother's  Thanksgiving  Story 

(Half  a  Hundred  Stories). 

December 

BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  C.  M. :  The  Legend  of  the  Christmas  Tree 
(For  the  Children's  Hour). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Golden  Cobwebs  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to 
Children). 

COE,  FANNY  E. :  St.  Christopher  (First  Book  of  Stories  for  the  Story- 
Teller). 

DILLINGHAM,  E.  T.,  and  EMERSON,  A.  P. :  Santa  Glaus'  Helpers, 
The  Story  of  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  The  Kitten  That  Wanted  to 
Be  a  Christmas  Present,  A  Christmas  Legend  ("Tell  It  Again" 
Stories). 

LINDSAY,  MAUD:   The  Christmas  Cake  (More  Mother  Stories). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Stranger  Child  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Christmas  Gift,  The  Wise  Men  and  the  Star,  The 
Shepherds  and  the  Angels  (World  Stories  Retold). 

January 

yEsop:  The  Bear  and  the  Fowls  (ADAMS:   Fables  and  Rhymes). 
ALDEN,  R.  M. :   The  Forest  Full  of  Friends  (Why  the  Chimes  Rang). 
BAILEY,  C.  S. :  The  Travels  of  a  Fox  (For  the  Story-Teller) . 
LINDSAY,  MAUD:   Mrs.  Tabby  Gray  (Mother  Stories). 
MACDONNELL,  ANNE  :   Peter,  the  Stone  Cutter  (Italian  Fairy  Book). 
POULSSON,  EMILIE  :   An  All  the  Year  Round  Story,  The  Fairies'  New 

Year's  Gift  (In  the  Child  World). 
RICHARDS,  L.  E. :  The  Pig  Brother  (The  Pig  Brother). 
SLY,  W.  R. :    The  Golden  Goose,  The  Baby  Brother  in  the  Basket 

Boat,  The  Flood  and  the  Rainbow  (World  Stories  Retold). 
SLOSSON,  MRS.  A.  T. :  The  Horse  That  Believed  He'd  Get  There  (Slory- 

Telling  Library). 
SOUTHEY,  ROBERT  :  The  Three  Bears. 


Stories  for  the  First  Grade  343 

February 

DILLEVGHAM,  E.  T.,  and  EMERSON,  A.  P. :   Elaine's  Valentine  ("  Tell 

It  Again"  Stories). 

GROSS,  H. :   Lincoln  and  the  Pig  (Lincoln's  Own  Stories). 
LANG,  ANDREW  :   East  o'  the  Sun  and  West  o'  the  Moon  (Blue  Story 

Book). 

LINDSAY,  MAUD  :  Story  of  Gretchen. 

NEXON-ROULET,  MARY  F. :  The  Sake  Waterfall  (Japanese  Folk  Stories). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   The  Children's  Friend,  The  Boy  Who  Lived  in  Church 

(World  Stories  Retold). 

WHITE,  ELIZA  0. :    A  Sunday  Valentine  (When  Molly  Was  Six). 
WIGGEV,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :   Little  George  Washington  (The 

Story  Hour) ;  Three  Little  Pigs  (Tales  of  Laughter). 
WILLISTON,  TERESA  P. :    The  Stolen  Charm  (Japanese  Fairy  Tales). 
WILTSE,  SARA  :  Jack  and  the  Beanstalk  (Hero  Folk  of  Ancient  Britain). 

March 

ALDEN,  R.  M. :  The  Boy  Who  Discovered  Spring  (Why  the  Chimes 
Rang). 

ASBJ0RNSEN,  P.  C. :  Little  Fred  and  His  Fiddle  (Fairy  Tales  from  the 
Far  North). 

BAILEY,  C.  S. :  Why  the  Bear  Sleeps  All  Winter  (Firelight  Stories). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Jackal  and  the  Alligator,  Little  Jack 
Roll-a-Round  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 

GRIMM,  JACOB  :  The  Queen  Bee,  The  Elves  and  the  Shoemaker  (Ger- 
man Household  Tales). 

HALL,  I.  F.,  and  LENNOX,  E.  D. :  Easter  Lily  (Red  Letter  Days). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :   Why  the  Sea  Is  Salt  (Book  of  Nature  Myths). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH:   The  Cat  and  the  Mouse  (English  Fairy  Tales). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  The  Elephant's  Child,  How  the  Rhinoceros  Got 
His  Skin  (Just  So  Stories). 

POULSSON,  EMILIE  :  A  Wise  Old  Horse  (In  the  Child  World). 

The  Pink  Knight  (Dumpy  Books  for  Children). 

April 

ANDERSEN,  HANS  CHRISTIAN  :   The  Wild  Swans  (Wonder  Stories). 
BAILEY,  C.  S. :  The  Little  Old  Woman  Who  Went  to  the  North  Wind 
(Firelight  Stories). 


344  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  Why   the   Morning   Glory   Climbs,   Why  the 

Evergreen   Trees  Keep   Their   Leaves   (How   to    Tell  Stories   to 

Children). 

BRYCE,  C.  T. :   The  Little  Slipper  Orchid  (That's  Why  Stories). 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE:    The  First  Humming  Bird   (Book  of  Nature 

Myths). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Mr.  Vinegar  (English  Fairy  Tales). 
JOHNSON,  CLIFTON  :  The  Travels  of  a  Fox  (Oak  Tree  Stories). 
LINDSAY,  MAUD  :   The  Little  Gray  Pony  (Mother  Stories). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :    The  Loveliest  Rose  in  the  World  (Good  Stories  for 

Great  Holidays). 
SETON,  ERNEST  THOMPSON  :  Raggylug  (BRYANT  :  How  to  Tell  Stories 

to  Children). 

May 

ALDEN,  R.  M. :   King's  Garden  (Why  the  Chimes  Rang). 

ASBJ^RNSEN,  P.  C. :   Paper  Tom  (The  Fairy  World). 

BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  C.  M. :   Hans  and  the  Wonderful  Flower, 

The  Legend  of  the  Dandelion  (For  the  Children's  Hour). 
BLAKEWELL,  E.  S. :  The  Elder  Tree  Mother  (True  Fairy  Stories). 
BRYCE,  C.  T. :  The  Mountain  Ash  (Thai's  Why  Stories). 
JUDD,  M.  C. :   How  the  Water  Lily  Came  (Wigwam  Stories). 
KEYES,  ANGELA  M. :   The  Two  Brothers  (Stories  and  Story-Telling). 
LINDSAY,  MAUD  :  The  Closing  Door  (Mother  Stories). 
WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  Pancake  (Tales  of  Laughter). 
A  Story  of  the  Flag  (Our  Holidays  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 

June 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  The  Little  Pink  Rose  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to 
Children) ;  Another  Little  Red  Hen,  The  Blackberry  Bush,  The 
Whale  and  the  Elephant,  The  Jackal  and  the  Camel  (Stories  to 
Tell  to  Children). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  Hans,  the  Shepherd  Boy  (Ethics  for  Children). 

DILLINGHAM,  E.  T.,  and  EMERSON,  A.  P. :  The  First  Flag  of  the  United 
States  (Tell  It  Again). 

HALL,  I.  F.,  and  LENNOX,  E.  D. :  Flag  Day  (Red  Letter  Days). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Boy  with  His  Lunch  (World  Stories  Retold). 


Stories  for  the  Second  Grade  345 

SECOND  GRADE 

September 

The  Ant  and  the  Grasshopper  (ADAMS  :   Fables  and  Rhyme*). 
ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :   The  Flax  (Wonder  Tales). 
BJORNSON,  BJORNSTJERNE  :  Oeyvind  and  Marit  (KEYES  :   Stories  and 

Story-Telling). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Sailor  Man  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :   The  Town  Musicians,  The  Wolf  and  the  Seven  Little 

Goats  (German  Household  Tales). 
HOLBROOK,  F.  E. :    How  Flax  Was  Given  to  Man  (Book  of  Nature 

Myths). 
O'GRADY,  ALICE  :    The  Old  Woman  Who  Lived  La  a  Vinegar  Bottle 

(The  Story-Teller's  Book). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   How  a  Happy  Home  Was  Lost,  The  First  Two  Brothers 

(World  Stories  Retold). 

October 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Wondering  Jack  (Second  Fairy  Reader). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Cat  and  the  Parrot  (Best  Stories  to  Tell  to 

Children.) 

BRYCE,  C.  T. :  The  Raven  (ThaCs  Why  Stories). 
CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Squirrel's  Devotion  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GRIMM,  JACOB:   Brier  Rose  (German  Household  Tales). 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Tom  Tit  Tot  (English  Fairy  Tales). 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  The  Cat  That  Walked  by  Himself  (Just  So  Stories). 
SLY,  W.  R. :    The  Ladder  That  Reached  to  Heaven,  The  Slave  Boy 

Who  Became  a  Prince  (World  Stories  Retold). 

November 

BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  C.  M. :   The  Mince  Pie  (For  the  Children's 

Hour). 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Grumbling  Peter  (Second  Fairy  Reader). 
BRYCE,  C.  T. :  The  Travelers  and  the  Bear  (Fables  from  Afar). 
LINDSAY,  MAUD  :  The  Visit,  The  Turkey's  Nest  (More  Mother  Stories). 
O'GRADY,  ALICE:    A  Good  Thanksgiving  (The  Story-Teller's  Book). 
SCUDDER,  H.  E. :   Diamonds  and  Toads  (Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 
WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  The  First  Thanksgiving  (The  Story 

Hour). 
Grandmother's  Thanksgiving,  A  Thanksgiving  at  Hollywood  (Half  a 

Hundred  Stories). 


346  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

December 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  Fulfilled,  The  Story  of  Jairus'  Daughter  (How 
to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 

BRYCE,  C.  T. :   The  Old  Woman  and  the  Crowbar  (Fables  from  Afar). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  and  the  Wolf  (Ethics  for  Chil- 
dren). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE:  Why  the  Fox  Has  a  White  Tip  on  His  Tail 
(Book  of  Nature  Myths). 

O'GRADY,  ALICE  :  Christmas  Eve,  Christmas  Morning,  The  Christmas 
Story,  The  Christmas  Tree  (The  Story-Teller's  Book). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  Little  Wolf's  Wooden  Shoes  (Good  Stories  for  Great 
Holidays). 

WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  The  First  Christmas  (The  Story 
Hour). 

January 

ASBJ^RNSEN,  P.  C. :  Little  Fred  and  His  Fiddle  (Fairy  Tales  from  the 
Far  North). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Little  Match  Girl  (Best  Stories  to  Tell  to 
Children). 

BRYCE,  C.  T. :  Why  the  Cat  Washes  after  Eating,  Why  Turtles  Stay 
near  Water  (That's  Why  Stories). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Magic  Mask  (Ethics  for  Children). 

PIERSON,  C.  D. :  The  Lamb  with  the  Longest  Tail  (Among  the  Farm- 
yard People). 

SCUDDER,  H.  E. :  One  Eye,  Two  Eyes,  Three  Eyes  (Fables  and  Folk 
Stories). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Elephant  and  the  Tailor,  The  Story  without  an  End, 
The  Flood  and  the  Rainbow  (World  Stories  Retold). 

February 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  Saving  the  Birds  (Lincoln),  Going  to  Sea  (Wash- 
ington) (Fifty  Famous  People). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  How  the  Camel  Got  His  Hump  (Just  So  Stories). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Cherry  Tree,  The  Apple  Orchard  (Good  Stories  for 
Great  Holidays). 

PIERSON,  C.  D. :  The  Story  That  Swallow  Didn't  Tell  (Among  the 
Farmyard  People). 

STOOD ARD,  JOHN  L. :  The  Story  of  St.  Valentine  (Lectures  —  South  Tyrol). 

WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  Little  George  Washington,  Big 
George  Washington  (The  Story  Hour). 


Stories  for  the  Second  Grade  347 

March 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  Little  Tavwots  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 
COOKE,  FLORA  J. :  An  Indian  Story  of  the  Mole  (Nature  Myths). 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE:    Why  the  Evergreen  Trees  Never  Lose  Their 

Leaves  (A  Book  of  Nature  Myths). 
O'GRADY,  ALICE  :   Titty  Mouse  and  Tatty  Mouse,  The  Sheep  and  the 

Pig  That  Built  a  House,  The  Straw  Ox  (The  Story-Teller's  Book). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Little  Tree  That  Longed  for  Leaves  (Good  Stories 

for  Great  Holidays). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   Why  Boys  Take  off  Their  Hats  in  Church  (World  Stories 

Retold). 

April 

^SOP:    The  Fox  and  the  Crow,  The  Jay  and  the  Peacock  (ADAMS: 

Fables  and  Rhymes). 
BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  C.  M. :    The  Red-Headed  Woodpecker 

(For  the  Children's  Hour). 
COOKE,  FLORA   J. :    How  the  Robin's  Breast  Became  Red  (Nature 

Myths). 

LINDSAY,  MAUD  :   Out  of  the  Nest  (More  Mother  Stories). 
PIERSON,  C.  D. :    The  Wonderful,  Shiny  Egg  (Among  the  Farmyard 

People). 
SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :    The  Jackdaw  and  the  Doves  (Fables  and  Folk 

Stories). 
SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Woman  Who  Shared  Her  Last  Loaf  (World  Stories 

Retold). 

May 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :    The  Snowdrop,  The  Little  Butterfly  Brothers, 

The  Water  Drop  (OLCOTT:   Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:    How  Brother  Rabbit  Fooled  the  Whale  (Best 

Stories  to  Tell  to  Children). 
COE,  FANNY  E. :  The  Story  of  the  Anemone  (First  Book  of  Stories  for 

the  Story-Teller). 
HART,  A.  S.,  and  STEVENS,  E. :  A  Boy  Who  Won  the  Cross  (Romance  of 

the  Civil  War). 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE:    The  Story  of  the  First  Butterflies  (Book  of 

Nature  Myths). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   The  Prince  Who  Hated  Spiders  and  Flies  (World  Stories 

Retold). 


348  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

June 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Boy  and  the  Wolf,  Another  Bird  Story,  Speak- 
ing a  Piece  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  Epaminondas  and  His  Auntie  (How  to  Tell 
Stories  to  Children). 

BRYCE,  C.  T. :  The  Four-Leaf  Clover  (That's  Why  Stories). 

GRIMM,  JACOB  :  The  Valiant  Little  Tailor,  Snow  White  and  the  Seven 
Dwarfs  (German  Household  Tales). 

O'GRADY,  ALICE :  The  Hop-About  Man  (The  Story-Tellers  Book). 

PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :  The  Story  of  Harriet  Ann,  The  Fox  and 
the  Crab,  The  Fairy  Bird  (Story-Telling  in  the  Home  and  School). 

THIRD  GRADE 

September 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Coco  (Second  Fairy  Reader) ;  Writing  a  Composi- 
tion (Longfellow),  The  Whistle  (Franklin),  the  Ettrick  Shepherd 
(James  Hogg)  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  How  Little  Cedric  Became  a  Knight,  The  Boy  Who 
Wanted  to  Learn  Climbing  Alone,  Hans,  the  Shepherd  Boy  (Ethics 
for  Children). 

GRIMM,  JACOB:  The  Little  Flower  Pot,  Snow  White  and  Rose  Red 
(German  Household  Tales). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  Why  the  Peacock's  Tail  Has  a  Thousand  Eyes 
(A  Book  of  Nature  Myths). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Flood  of  Waters  (World  Stories  Retold). 

October 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :    The  Garden  of  Delight  (Old  Stories  of  the  East) ; 

The  Caliph  and  the  Poet,  Becos!  Becos!  Becos!  (Fifty  Famous 

People). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:    The  Nightingale,  The  Burning  of   the   Rice 

Fields  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 

HARRISON,  ELIZABETH:    Christopher  Columbus  (In  Story  Land). 
MILLER,  MRS.  H. :    How  the  Crow  Baby  Was  Punished  (True  Bird 

Stories). 

NEXON-ROULET,  MARY  F. :  A  Painter  of  Cats  (Japanese  Folk  Stories). 
PUMPHREY,  M.  B. :  The  Jack  o'  Lantern  (Pilgrim  Stories). 


Stories  for  the  Third  Grade  349 

SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :  The  Wolves  and  the  Sheep  (Fables  and  Folk 

Stories). 
The  Story  of  Columbus  (Stepping  Stones  to  Literature  —  Book  3). 

November 

BAILEY,  C.  S.,  and  LEWIS,  C.  M. :  The  Story  of  the  First  Corn,  Little 
Cosette  (The  Children's  Hour). 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold) ; 
A  Lesson  in  Humility  (Haroun-al-Raschid),  Another  World  Story 
(Israel  Putnam),  The  Horseshoe  Nails  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  How  Fire  Was  Brought  to  the  Indians  (Book 
of  Nature  Myths). 

JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :  How  the  Flounder's  Mouth  Got  Twisted  (The 
Book  of  Knight  and  Barbara). 

MACMANUS,  SEUMAS  :  The  Long  Leather  Bag  (Donegal  Fairy  Book). 

NrxoN-RouLET,  M.  F. :  The  Goddess  of  Growing  Things  (Japanese 
Folk  Stories). 

PUMPHREY,  M.  B. :   The  First  Thanksgiving  (Pilgrim  Stories). 

SCHAUFFLER,  R.  H. :  Grandma's  Thanksgiving  Story  (Book  of  Thanks- 
giving). 

WIGGFN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  The  First  Thanksgiving  Day  (The 
Story  Hour). 

December 

ALDEN,  R.  M. :  In  the  Great  Walled  Country  (Why  the  Chimes  Rang). 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Bruce  and  the  Spider  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold) ; 
The  Landlord's  Mistake  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

DICKINSON,  A.  D.,  and  SKINNER,  A.  M. :  A  Little  Girl's  Christmas 
(Children's  Book  of  Christmas  Stories). 

HEHER,  ELIZABETH  :  A  Christmas  Story,  The  First  Christmas  Tree 
(A  Child's  Story  Garden). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH:  Cap  o'  Rushes  (English  Fairy  Tales). 

JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :  The  Boy  That  Whacked  the  Witched  Toad 
Stools  (The  Book  of  Knight  and  Barbara). 

LINDSAY,  MAUD  :  The  Christmas  Cake  (More  Mother  Stories). 

PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :  Little  Paulina's  Christmas  (Story-Telling 
in  the  Home  and  School). 

Little  Gretchen  and  the  Wooden  Shoe  (Storytellers'  Magazine,  Decem- 
ber, 1914). 

The  Christmas  Visitor  (Storytellers'  Magazine,  December,  1913). 


350  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

January 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  The  Shepherd  Boy  Painter,  Two  Great  Painters, 
The  King  and  the  Bees,  Our  First  Great  Painter  (Fifty  Famous 
People) ;  Peter  Woodland  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds) ; 
The  Two  Brothers  (Old  Slories  of  the  East). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Quails  (Ethics  for  Children). 

FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  How  Jean  Found  the  Calf  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 

GRIMM,  JACOB:  Old  Sultan  (German  Household  Tales). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  The  Story  of  the  First  Moles  (4  Book  of 
Nature  Myths). 

PERRAULT,  CHARLES:   Beauty  and  the  Beast  (Fairy  Tales). 

SCUDDER,  H.  E. :  The  Stag  at  Stake  (Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 

February 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  The  Young  Scout,  The  Lad  Who  Rode  Sidesaddle 
(Fifty  Famous  People). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Jackal  and  the  Camel  (How  to  Tell  Stories 
to  Children). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :   Lincoln's  Unvarying  Kindness  (Ethics  for  Children). 

DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG:  The  Eagle  and  the  Bice  Birds 
(Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  How  Brer  Bear's  Hair  was  Combed  (Little  Mr.  Thimble- 
finger). 

HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  The  Lantern  and  the  Fan  (A  Book  of  Nature 
Myths). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Jack  and  the  Golden  Snuff  Box  (English  Fairy  Tales). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  George  Washington  and  the  Colt  (Good  Stories  for  Great 
Holidays). 

SCUDDER,  HORACE  E.:  The  Fan-  One  with  the  Golden  Locks  (The 
Children's  Book) ;  The  Four  Bulls  and  the  Lion  (Fables  and  Folk 
Stories) ;  An  Old  Man  and  His  Sons  (Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 

WILSON  :  The  Virginia  Boy  (Nature  Study  —  Book  2). 

March 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :  The  Loveliest  Bose  in  the  World  (Good  Stories  for 

Great  Holidays). 
BALDWIN,  JAMES  :    The  Whisperers,  How  a  Prince  Learned  to  Bead, 

Read  and  You  Will  Know,  The  Young  Cupbearer  (Fifty  Famous 

People). 
CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Broken  Flower  Pot  (Ethics  for  Children). 


Stories  for  the  Third  Grade  351 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  The  Grandmother  of  the  Dolls  (Little  Mr.  Thimble- 
finger). 

HEBER,  ELIZABETH:  The  Song  of  the  Pine  Tree  (A  Child's  Story 
Garden). 

JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :  Why  the  Parrot  Was  so  Strong  (The  Book  of 
Knight  and  Barbara). 

MILLER,  MRS.  H. :   My  First  Bird  (True  Bird  Stories). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  A  Lesson  of  Faith  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Generous  Uncle  and  the  Selfish  Nephew  (World 
Stories  Retold). 

STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  The  White  Hare  (Days  and  Deeds). 

WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  N.  A. :  The  Emperor's  Bird's  Nest  (The 
Fairy  Ring). 

April 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Sons  of  the  Caliph,  The  Boy  and  the  Robbers 

(Fifty  Famous  People) ;    The  Bell  of  Atri  (Fifty  Famous  Stories 

Retold). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Tailor  and  the  Three  Beasts  (Stories  to  Tell 

to  Children). 

COWLES,  J.  D. :   The  Queen's  Necklace  (The  Art  of  Story-Telling). 
DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG:   The  Mule  and  the  Lion,  The  Fish 

and  the  Flowers  (Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 
FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  A  Brave  Russian  Girl  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 
LYMAN,   EDNA  :    The   Princess   Moonbeam,   The  Boastful  Bamboo, 

The  Mirror  of  Matsuyama  (Story-Telling:    What  to  Tell  and  How  to 

Tell  It). 
MILLER,  MRS.  H. :   Doctor  Dot,  How  the  Dog  Interfered  (True  Bird 

Stories). 

May 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  A  Clever  Slave,  The  Story  of  a  Great  Story,  The 
King  and  the  Page,  Why  He  Carried  the  Turkey,  The  Caliph  and 
the  Gardener,  Saved  by  a  Dolphin,  The  General  and  the  Fox 
(Fifty  Famous  People). 

DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG  :  The  Wind,  the  Clouds,  and  the  Snow 
(Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 

JUDD,  M.  C. :  The  Legend  of  the  Arbutus  (Wigwam  Stories). 

JUDSON,  K.  B. :  The  Miser  of  Takhoma  (Myths  and  Legends  of  the 
Pacific  Northwest). 

LYMAN,  EDNA  :  The  White  Hare  and  the  Crocodiles,  The  Tongue-Cut 
Sparrow  (Story-Telling:  What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It). 


352  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

NixoN-RouLET,  MARY  F. :  Princess  Moonbeam  (Japanese  Folk  Stories). 
SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :  Clever  Alice  (Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 
SLY,  W.  R. :    The  Shepherd  Boy  Who  Slew  a  Giant  (World  Stories 
Retold). 

June 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  The  Cowherd  Who  Became  a  Poet,  The  Lover  of 
Men,  The  Charcoal  Man  and  the  King  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

BLUMENTHAL,  VERRA  X.  K.  DE  :  The  Tsarevna  Frog,  Seven  Simeons, 
The  Language  of  Birds  (Folk  Tales  from  the  Russian). 

ENGLISH,  THOMAS  :  The  Ax  of  Ranier,  The  Black  Cat  (Fairy  Stories 
and  Wonder  Tales). 

GRIMM,  JACOB:  The  Three  Little  Men  in  the  Wood,  The  Three  Lan- 
guages, The  Little  Farmer  (German  Household  Tales). 

NrxoN-RouLET,  M.  F. :  The  Boastful  Bamboo  (Japanese  Folk  Stories). 

POULSSON,  EMILJE  :  Knut  Spelevink,  The  Princess  Lindagull,  Sikku 
and  the  Trolls,  Sampo  Lappelil  (Top  of  the  World  Series). 

FOURTH  GRADE 

September 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :    The  Great  Chief  (Old  Stories  of  the  East) ;    The 

Charcoal  Man  and  the  King  (Fifty  Famous  People). 
BROWN,  A.  L.,  and  BELL,  J.  M. :    Why  the  White  Bear  Lives  Alone 

(Tales  of  the  Red  Children). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:  The    Castle  of    Fortune   (Stories    to   Tell    to 

Children). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L :  The  Two  Travelers  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:    Pan  and    His  Pipes   (Pan  and   His 

Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :  Six  Soldiers  of  Fortune,  The  Little  House  in  the  Wood, 

The  Three  Trades  (German  Household  Tales). 

LANG,  ANDREW:   The  Fisherman  and  His  Wife  (Green  Fairy  Book). 
RAMASWAMI  RAJU:   The  Hammer  and  the  Anvil  (Indian  Fables). 
DE  LA  RAMEE,  L. :  The  Niirnberg   Stove   (WIGGIN  and  SMITH  :  The 

Story  Hour). 

October 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Master  of  the  Nile  (Old  Stories  of  the  East) ; 
Partners  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds);  Which  Was  King? 
(Fifty  Famous  People). 


Stories  for  the  Fourth  Grade  353 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :   Why  the  Water  in  Rivers  Is  Never  Still  (How 

to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Jack  o'  Lantern  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :    The  Tortoise  That  Gave  the  World 

Music  (Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
HARRIS,  J.  C. :  The  Witch  of  the  Well  (Little  Mr.  Thimblefinger). 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Mr.  Fox  (English  Fairy  Tales). 
LANG,  ANDREW:   The  Story  of  Caliph  Stork  (Green  Fairy  Book). 
MABIE,  H.  W. :    The  Badger's  Money  (Folk  Tales  Every  Child  Should 

Know). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :   Shippeitaro,  Burg's  Hill's  on  Fire,  The  King  of  Cats 

(Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

November 

ALDEN,  R.  M. :  The  Knights  of  the  Silver  Shield  (Why  the  Chimes 
Rang). 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :   The  Golden  Tripod  (Fifty  Famous  People). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:  The  Holy  Bird  (Story  of  Music  in 
China  —  Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 

DAUDET,  ALPHONSE  :  The  Last  Lesson  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Brer  Terrapin's  Fiddle  String  (Little  Mr.  Thimble- 
finger). 

HOWELLS,  W.  D. :  Turkeys  Turning  the  Tables  (Christmas  Every  Day). 

JUDD,  M.  C. :  The  Marriage  of  Mondahmin  (Wigwam  Stories). 

LANG,  ANDREW  :   Rosanella  (Green  Fairy  Book). 

MACMANUS,  SEUMAS:   Manis,  the  Miller  (Donegal  Fairy  Tales). 

SCHAUFFLER,  R.  H.  (Ed.) :  The  First  Thanksgiving  Day  in  New 
England,  Jericho  Bob,  Ann  Mary's  Two  Thanksgivings,  Polly's 
Thanksgiving  (Thanksgiving). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  The  Little  Lame  Prince  (World  Stories  Retold). 

ZITKALA-SA  :  The  Badger  and  the  Bear  (Old  Indian  Legends). 

December 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :  The  Little  Match  Girl  (Fairy  Tales). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  Fulfilled  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :   A  Star  and  a  Song,  The  Harp  King 

Alfred  Played  (Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
COOLIDGE  :  Little  Roger's  Night  in  Church  (SCHAUFFLER  :  Christmas). 
DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG:    The   Proud   Fox  and  the  Crab, 

How  the  Moon  Became  Beautiful  (Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 


354  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

DICKENS,  CHARLES  :  The  Christmas  Goose  at  the  Cratchits'  (SCHAUFF- 
LER:  Christmas). 

DODGE,  M.  M. :  The  Festival  of  St.  Nicholas  (SCHAUFFLER  :  Christmas). 

MILLER,  MRS.  H. :  Christmas  in  a  Baggage  Car,  Lottie's  Christmas 
Tree  (Kristy's  Rainy  Day  Picnics). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Christmas  Cuckoo  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holi- 
days). 

POULSSON,  EMILIE  :  A  Legend  of  Mercy  (Top  of  the  World  Series). 

STEIN,  EVALEEN:   Felix  (Troubadour  Tales). 

January 

CABOT,   ELLA  L.,   The  Good  Bishop,  The  Banyan  Deer  (Ethics  for 

Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  Stephen,  the  Child  Crusader  (Pan  and 

His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
COWLES,  J.  D. :    Robin  Hood  and  Sir  Richard  at  Lee,  King  Midas' 

Ears  (The  Art  of  Story-Telling). 
DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG:    The   Melon  and  the   Professor 

(Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 
FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  Roland  and  the  Jewel,  David,  the  Brave  Shepherd 

Boy  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 

JUDD,  M.  C. :  The  Face  of  Manitou  on  the  Rock  (Wigwam  Stories). 
MACMANUS,  SEXJMAS:   Conal,  Donal,  and  Taig  (Donegal  Fairy  Tales). 
PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :    The  Judgment  Seat  of  Vikramaditya 

(Story-Telling  in  the  Home  and  School). 
POULSSON,  EMILIE  :  The  Testing  of  the  Two  Knights  (Top  of  the  World 

Stories). 

February 

BROWN,  A.  L.,  and  BELL,  J.  M., :    The  Cleft  Mountain  (Tales  of  the 

Red  Children). 
CABOT,  ELLA  L. :    A  Soldier's  Pardon,  The  Sympathy  of  Abraham 

Lincoln  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :    When    Knighthood  Was   in   Flower 

(Pan  anrf  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG  :  The  Children  and  the  Dog  (Chinese 

Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 

FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  At  the  Ford  of  the  Tribute  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :  Jorinda  and  Joringel  (German  Household  Taks). 
LANG,  ANDREW:    The  War  Horse  of  Alexander  (The  Animal  Story 

Book). 


Stories  for  the  Fourth  Grade  355 

MOORE,  CHARLES  W. :   A  Backwoods  Boyhood  (Abraham  Lincoln). 
POULSSON,  EMILIE  :  The  Forest  Witch  (Top  of  the  World  Stories). 
TAPPAN,  EVA  M. :  Dolly  Madison  (American  Hero  Stories) ;  How  Cats 
Came  to  Purr  (Cat  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 

March 

BOYESEN,  H.  H. :  Thorwald  and  the  Star  Children  (Modern  Vikings). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE  :   The  Dagada's  Harp  (Stories  to  Tell  to  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :   The  Violin  Makers  of  Cremona  (Pan 

and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 
FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  Noel  Duval,  How  a  Boy  Saved  a  Queen,  The  Sword 

of  King  Arthur  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 
KOROLENKO,  Z. :  Hot  Cross  Buns  (The  Book  of  Easter). 
PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :   Glooscap  and  the  Great  Wind  Bird 

(Story-Telling  in  the  Home  and  School). 

RAMASWAMI  RAJU  :  The  Workman  and  the  Trees  (Indian  Fables). 
SLY,  W.  R. :    Grace  Darling,  The  Slave  Girl  Who  Helped  a  Great 

Captain  (World  Stories  Retold). 

April 

BLUMENTHAL,  VERRA  X.  K.  DE  :  Ivanoushka  the  Simpleton,  Woe 
Bogotir,  Baba  Yaga,  Dimian  the  Peasant,  The  Golden  Moun- 
tain (Folk  Tales  from  the  Russian). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:  The  Songs  of  Hiawatha  (Pan  and 
His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories). 

FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  The  Young  Hannibal  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 

LANG,  ANDREW  :  Cowper's  Hares  (The  Animal  Story  Book). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Boy  Who  Became  a  Robin,  The  Quails,  The  Greedy 
Geese  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :  The  Ride  of  Paul  Revere  (Story-Telling 
in  the  Home  and  School). 

May 

BALDWIN,   JAMES:    Androclus  and  the  Lion   (Fifty  Famous  Stories 

Retold). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:  The  Holy  Grail  (Pan  ana*  His  Pipes 

and  Other  Stories). 

COWLES,  J.  D. :  The  Coming  of  Arthur  (The  Art  of  Story-Telling). 
DAVIS,  M.  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG  :   The  Thief  and  the  Elephant,  The 

Hen  and  the  Mountain  Turtle  (Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Stories). 


356  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

HARRISON,  ELIZABETH  :  The  Story  of  Decoration  Day  (In  Story  Land). 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  The  Story  of  the  First  Mocking  Bird  (Book  of 

Nature  Myths). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Wonder  Tree,  The  Blue  Jay  (Good  Stories  for  Great 

Holidays). 
STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :    The  Origin  of  Memorial  Day  (Days  and 

Deeds). 
A  Rat  Tale  (Cat  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 

June 

BROWN,  A.  J.,  and  BELL,  J.  M. :  The  Story  of  Ithenhiels  (Tales  of  the 

Red  Children). 

FARMER,  J.  F.  V. :  Betty  Lane  (Boy  and  Girl  Heroes). 
PRICE,  L.  L. :    The  Legs  of  Duncan  Ketcham  (Lads  and  Lassies  of 

Other  Days). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   The  Emperor  and  the  Goose  Boy,  Betsy  Ross  and  the 

Flag,   How  America  was   Named,   The  Fairy   Godfather  of  the 

Orchards  (World  Stories  Retold). 
TAPPAN,  E.  M. :  The  Star-Spangled  Banner,  A  Flag  Incident,  General 

Scott  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

FIFTH  GRADE 

September 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Ezekiel  and  Daniel  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds) ; 

The  Forging  of  Balmung  (Hero  Tales). 

BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  The  Dwarf  Giants  (In  the  Days  of  Giants). 
EASTMAN,  C.  A.  and  E. :  The  Buffalo  and  the  Field  Mouse  (Smoky 

Day's  Wigwam  Evenings). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Mr.  Fox  and  Miss  Goose  (Nights  with  Uncle  Remus). 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :   Master  of  All  Masters  (English  Fairy  Tales). 
JUDD,  M.  C. :  Wampum,  or  Indian  Money  (Wigwam  Stories). 
KINGSLEY,  CHARLES:   How  They  Built  the  Good  Ship  Argo  in  Icolos 

(Greek  Heroes). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  Mowgli's  Brothers  (Jungle  Book). 
Bessie's  Escape  (Panther  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 

October 

BALDWIN,   JAMES:     Columbus   and   the   Egg    (Thirty   More  Famous 
Stories) ;   The  Tombs  Angel  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds). 


Stories  for  the  Fifth  Grade  S57 

EASTMAN,  C.  A.  and  E. :  The  Frogs  and  the  Crane  (Smoky  Day's 
Wigwam  Evenings). 

HIGGINSON,  T.  W. :  How  Diego  Mendez  Got  Food  for  Columbus 
(American  Explorers). 

IRVING,  WASHINGTON  :  Columbus  at  La  Rabida  (OLCOTT  :  Good  Stories 
for  Great  Holidays). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  The  Field  Boliauns  (Celtic  Fairy  Tales). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD:    Kaa's  Hunting  (Jungle  Book). 

LAMARTINE,  DE  :  The  Mutiny  (OLCOTT  :  Good  Stories  for  Great  Holi- 
days). 

MILLER,  JOAQUIN  :  A  Bear  on  Fire  (True  Bear  Stories). 

MOORE,  CHARLES  W. :    Guanahani  (Christopher  Columbus). 

Bertholde  (Stories  of  the  Middle  Ages  Retold  from  St.  Nicholat). 

November 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Red  Cross  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds). 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :   The  Robber  Bridegroom,  The  Youth  Who  Could  Not 

Shiver  nor  Shake  (German  Household  Tales). 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  How  Fear  Came  (First  Jungle  Book). 
PUMPHREY,  M.  B. :    The    Indians    and    the    Jack    o'  Lantern,  The 

Sword  of  Miles  Standish,  The  Voyage  of  the  Mayflower,  Water 

Babies  (Pilgrim  Stories). 
PYLE,  HOWARD:   How  Robin  Hood  Became  an  Outlaw  (Some  Merry 

Adventures  of  Robin  Hood). 

WARNER,  C.  D. :  The  Coming  of  Thanksgiving  (Being  a  Boy). 
An  Old-Time  Thanksgiving  (Indian  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 
The  Story  of  the  Sphinx  (Stories  of  the  Ancient  World  Retold  from  St. 

Nicholas). 

December 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :   Damon  and  Pythias  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold). 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :  The  Red  Flower  (Jungle  Book). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :   The  Thunder  Oak  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 
PYLE,   HOWARD:    Robin    Hood's  Adventure  with    the  Tinker,   The 

Sheriff's  Shooting  Match  (Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood). 
STEIN,  EVALEEN:   Felix  (Troubadour  Tales). 

STOCKTON,  FRANK  R. :  Christmas  before  Last  (The  Bee  Man  of  Orn). 
WALSH,  K. :   St.  Nicholas  and  the  Robbers  (The  Story  of  Santa  Claus). 
WILDE,  OSCAR:   The  Star-Child  (The  Happy  Prince). 
How  Uncle  Sam  Observes  Christmas  (Our  Holidays  Retold  from  SL 

Nicholas). 


358  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

The  First   Christmas  Tree  in   New  England  (Colonial  Stories  Retold 
from  St.  Nicholas). 

January 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Bootblack  from  Ann  Street  (American  Book  oj 

Golden  Deeds). 

BHYANT,  SARA  CONE  :  The  Red  Thread  of  Courage  (How  to  Tell  Stories). 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN:    The  Persian  and  His  Three  Sons  (Ethics  for 

Children). 
HARRIS,  J.  C. :   Brer  Fox  Catches  Brer  Rabbit   (Nights  with   Uncle 

Remus). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  The  Boys  of  Devon  (Historic  Boyhoods). 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD:  Tiger!  Tiger!  (The  Jungle  Book). 
MILLER,  JOAQUIN:    Music-Loving  Bears  (True  Bear  Stories). 
PYLE,  HOWARD:    Robin  Hood  Saves  Will  Sutley's  Life,  The  Sheriff's 

Visit  to  Robin  Hood  (Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood). 
The  Boyhood  of  Michelangelo  (Stories  of  the  Middle  Ages  Retold  from 

St.  Nicholas). 

February 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:    Following  the  Surveyor's   Chain    (Fifty  Famous 
People) ;  The  Great  Law-Giver  (Old  Stories  of  the  East). 

BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:   David  and  Goliath  (Stories  to  Tell  to  Children). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD:   Letting  in  the  Jungle  (Second  Jungle  Book). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  Young  George  Washington  and  the  Colt  (Good  Stories 
for  Great  Holidays). 

SCHAUFFLER,  R.  H. :   Choosing  Abe  Lincoln  Captain  (Lincoln's  Birth- 
day). 

TOMLINSON,  EVERETT:    How  George  Washington  Was  Made  Com- 
mander in  Chief  (The  War  for  Independence). 

A  New  Leaf  from  Washington's  Boy  Life  (Colonial  Stories  Retold  from 
St.  Nicholas). 

How  Moses  Was  Emancipated   (Civil  War  Stories  Retold  from  St. 
Nicholas). 

March 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Story  of  Regulus  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold). 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:   Tarpeia  (How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children). 
GATHER,   KATHERINE  DUNLAP:    When    Mozart    Raced   with    Marie 

Antoinette  (Boyhood  Stories). 
EASTMAN,  C.  A.  and  E. :    The  Falcon  and  the  Duck  (Smoky  Day's 

Wigwam  Evenings). 


Stories  for  the  Fifth  Grade  359 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :   How   Brer  Fox  Was  Too   Smart  (Nights  with  Uncle 

Remus). 

KIPLING,  Run  YARD  :  Red  Dog  (Second  Jungle  Book). 
PYLE,  HOWARD-    Robin  Hood  and    His  Men  before  Queen  Eleanor 

(Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood). 
SCHMIDT,  CANON  :  The  Easter  Eggs. 
The  Fire  Cat  (Panther  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 
The  General's  Easter  Box  (Our  Holidays  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 

April 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  Ogier  the  Dane  (The  Story  of  Roland);  Grace 
Darling,  Alfred  the  Great  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold). 

BOLTON,  S.  K. :    Garibaldi  (Lives  of  Poor  Boys  Who  Became  Famous). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Brer  Rabbit's  Astonishing  Prank  (Nights  with  Uncle 
Remus). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH:  Hudden  and  Dudden  and  Donald  O'Neary  (Celtic 
Fairy  Tales). 

KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :   The  Spring  Running  (Second  Jungle  Book). 

PYLE,  HOWARD:  Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisbourne  (Some  Merry 
Adventures  of  Robin  Hood). 

SETON,  ERNEST  THOMPSON  :   Monarch,  the  Big  Bear  of  Tallac. 

STOCKTON,  FRANK.  R. :  Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  (L.YMAN :  Story- 
Telling,  What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It). 

May 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  The  Man  Whose  Eye  Was  Open  (Old  Stories  of  the 
East) ;  La  Salle  (The  Discovery  of  the  Old  Northwest) ;  Ogier  and 
Roland  Knighted,  How  Ogier  Won  Sword  and  Horse,  A  Roland 
for  an  Oliver  (The  Story  of  Roland). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  How  a  Boy  Saved  Lucerne,  The  Duty 
That  Wasn't  Paid. 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Legend  of  the  Spring  Beauty,  The  Fairy  Tulips, 
Two  Hero  Stories  of  the  Civil  War  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

PYLE,  HOWARD  :  The  Death  of  Robin  Hood  (Some  Merry  Adventure* 
of  Robin  Hood). 

June 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  How  Ogier  Refused  a  Kingdom  (The  Story  of  Ro- 
land) ;  William  Tell  (Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold) ;  The  Heroine  of 
Fort  Henry  (American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds). 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :   William  the  Conqueror  (Historic  Boys). 


360  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :   Margaret  of  New  Orleans  (Ethics  for  Children). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  The  Luck  Boat  of  Lake  Geneva. 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :   General  Scott  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  (Good  Stories 

for  Great  Holidays). 
SLY,  W.  J. :  Betsy  Ross  and  the  Flag  (World  Stories  Retold). 

SIXTH  GRADE 

September 

BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  The  Giant  Builder  (In  the  Days  of  Giants). 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :   David  and  Jonathan  (Ethics  for  Children). 
JUDD,  M.  C. :   The  Legend  of  Niagara  Falls  (Wigwam  Stories). 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD  :   Weland's  Sword  (Puck  of  Pook's  Hill). 
LANG,  JEANIE:    The  Story  of  General  Gordon. 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  Bill  Brown's  Test,  The  Speaking  Statue,  The  Champion 

Stone  Cutter  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

RAGOZIN,  Z.  A. :  Beowulf  Comes  to  Daneland  (Siegfried  and  Beowulf). 
RHEAD,  J.  S. :  The  Story  of  the  Fisherman  (Arabian  Nights). 
TOLSTOI,  LEO  :   Truth  is  Mighty  and  Will  Prevail  (CABOT  :  Ethics  for 

Children). 

October 

GRIMM,  JACOB  :   The  Godfather  (German  Household  Tales). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Brer  Rabbit  Takes  Exercise  (Nights  with  Uncle  Remus). 

HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL:    Pandora  (Wonder-Book). 

IRVING,  WASHINGTON:    The  Discovery  of  Land  (Life  of  Christopher 

Columbus). 
PERRY,  E.  L.,  and  BEEBE,  KATHERINE:    George  Rogers  Clark  (Four 

American  Pioneers). 

RAGOZIN,  Z.  A. :  The  Combat  with  Grendel  (Siegfried  and  Beowulf). 
RHEAD,  J.  S. :   Abou  Mohammed  the  Lazy  (Arabian  Nights). 
TOLSTOI,  LEO:  Where  Love  Is,  There  God  Is  Also  (CABOT:  Ethics  for 

Children). 

All  Hallow  Eve  Myths  (Our  Holidays  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 
For  additional  Columbus  Day  material  see  "The  Son  of  Columbus" 

by  Mollie  Elliot  Seawell. 

November 

BRADLEY,  WILL:  Hans  the  Wise,  Nip  and  Tuck  (The  Wonder  Box). 
BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  The  Magic  Apples  (In  the  Days  of  Giants). 
HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Brer  Wolf  Says  Grace  (Nights  with  Uncle  Remus). 


Stories  for  the  Sixth  Grade  361 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :    The   Ears  of  Wheat,  How  Indian   Corn  Came  into 

the  World  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 
PUMPHREY,  M.  B. :  Samoset,  The  Treaty  of  Peace,  The  Little  Captives 

(Pilgrim  Stories). 
RAGOZIN,  Z.  A.:    Grendel  Avenged,  Beowulf  Returns  to  His  Own 

Land  (Siegfried  and  Beowulf). 
RHEAD,  J.  S. :  Abou  Hassan  the  Wag  (Arabian  Nights). 

December 

DICKENS,  CHARLES  :  Christmas  at  Fezziwig's  Warehouse  (SCHAUFFLER  : 
Christmas). 

DYER,  WALTER  :  The  Baby  Camel  That  Walked  to  Jesus. 

LAGERLOF,  SELMA  :  The  Holy  Night  (Christ  Legends). 

PUMPHREY,  M.  B. :   The  Christmas  Candle  (Pilgrim  Stories). 

RAGOZIN,  Z.  A. :  Beowulf's  Victory  and  Death  (Siegfried  and  Beowulf). 

RICE,  ALICE  HEGAN:  Betty's  Best  Christmas  (St.  Nicholas,  Decem- 
ber, 1916). 

SKINNER,  CHARLES  M. :  The  Legend  of  the  Mountain  Ash  (Myths  of 
Plants,  Trees,  and  Flowers). 

TOLSTOI,  LEO  :  Evil  Allures  but  Good  Endures  (CABOT  :  Ethics  for 
Children). 

WALSH,  K. :  St.  Nicholas  and  the  Slave  Boy  (The  Story  of  Santa  Glaus). 

January 

BRADLEY,  WILL:  Snip  and  Stitch  (The  Wonder  Box). 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :  A  Lesson  for  Kings  (Ethics  for  Children). 

EGGLESTON,   EDWARD:    The  Troublesome  Burglars   (Strange  Stories 

from  History). 
JUDD,  M.  C. :  How  Indians  Came  to  Know  Medicine  Plants  (Wigwam 

Stories). 
MACLEOD,  R. :   A  Great  Feast  and  a  Great  Battle,  The  Marriage  of 

Guinevere  and  Arthur  and  the  Founding  of  the  Round  Table 

(King  Arthur  and  His  Noble  Knights). 
SLY,  W.  R. :    The  Golden  Scepter  in  the  Palace  of  the  Lily  (World 

Stories  Retold). 

STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  A  New  Year's  Talk  (Days  and  Deeds). 
STONE,  G.  L. :  The  Legend  of  the  Oak  (Trees  in  Prose  and  Poetry). 
A  Chinese  New  Year  in  California  (Our  Holidays  Retold  from  St. 

Nicholas). 
A  Spanish  Tale  (Fairy  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas). 


362  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

February 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :  The  Clary  Grove  Boys  (Abraham  Lincoln). 

EGGLESTON,  EDWARD  :  Young  Washington  in  the  Woods,  How  a  Scul- 
lion Became  a  Sculptor  (Strange  Stories  from  History). 

GALLAGHER,  J.  E. :  Lincoln's  Good  Memory  of  Names  (Best  Lincoln 
Stories). 

MACLEOD,  R. :  King  Arthur  and  Sir  Accalon,  How  King  Arthur 
Fought  with  a  Giant  (King  Arthur  and  His  Noble  Knights). 

MOORE,  CHARLES  W. :  Lincoln  and  the  Unjust  Client  (Abraham 
Lincoln). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  Washington  at  Yorktown  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holi- 
days). 

March 

BALDWIN,  JAMBS:    King  Richard  and  Blondel  (Thirty  More  Famous 

Stories). 

BRADLEY,  WILL:  The  Master  Makes  a  Bargain  (The  Wonder  Box). 
EGGLESTON,  EDWARD  :   The  Prince  Who  Could  Not  Stay  Dead  (Strange 

Stories  from  History). 

HAUFF,  WILHELM:  The  Peddler  and  the  Powder  (Caravan  Tales). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :   Daniel  Boone  (Historic  Boyhoods). 
MACLEOD,  R. :    Sir  Brune,  Sir  Ivaine  (King  Arthur  and  His  Noble 

Knights). 

MARDEN,  O.  S. :  How  the  Children  Saved  Hamburg  (Winning  Out). 
PRICE,  L.  L. :  Abraham  and  Isaac  (Wandering  Heroes). 

April 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  As  Rich  as  Croesus  (Thirty  More  Famous  Stories). 
BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  Saint  Kentigern  and  the  Robin  (Book  of  Saints 

and  Friendly  Beasts). 
DICKENS,  CHARLES  :  A  Child's  Dream  of  a  Star  (OLCOTT  :  Good  Stories 

for  Great  Holidays). 
EGGLESTON,  EDWARD  :  The  Story  of  Catherine  (Strange  Stories  from 

History). 

HAUFF,  WILHELM:  The  Mystic  Word  (Caravan  Tales). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  Lafayette,  the  Boy  of  Versailles  (Historic  Boyhoods). 
MACLEOD,  R. :   Sir  Balm,  Sir  Gareth  the  Kitchen  Boy  (King  Arthur 

and  His  Noble  Knights). 
PRICE,  L.  L. :  Joseph  (Wandering  Heroes). 


Stories  for  the  Seventh  Grade  363 

May 

ANDERSEN,  H.  C. :    The  Daisy  (Wonder  Stories  Told  to  Children). 
EGGLESTON,  EDWARD  :  The  Sad  Story  of  a  Boy  King  (Strange  Stories 

from  History). 

GILBERT,  ARIADNE  :  Beloved  of  Men  and  Dogs  (More  than  Conquerors). 
HAUFF,  WILHELM  :   The  Captive  Owl  (Caravan  Tales). 
HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL  :  The  Pomegranate  Seeds  (Tanglewood  Tales). 
MACLEOD,  R. :    Sir  Launcelot  and  His  Friends,  Sir  Tristram,  How 

Sir  Tristram   Came  to   Camelot    (King   Arthur  and  His   Noble 

Knights). 
STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :    The  Origin  of  Memorial  Day  (Days  and 

Deeds). 

June 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  Webster  and  the  Woodchuck  (Thirty  More  Famous 
Stories) ;  Cornelia's  Jewels  (Fifty  Famous  Stories). 

HAUFF,  WILHELM:   The  Hall  of  Sorcerers  (Caravan  Tales). 

JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :  The  Story  of  a  Salmon. 

JUDSON,  KATHARINE  B. :  Why  the  Sierra  Nevada  is  Higher  than  the 
Coast  Range  (Myths  of  California  and  the  Old  Southtvesf). 

MACLEOD,  R. :  The  Quest  of  the  Holy  Grail,  The  Death  of  King 
Arthur  (King  Arthur  and  His  Noble  Knights). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :  Moses  (Wandering  Heroes). 


SEVENTH  GRADE 

September 

AUSTIN,  MARY  :  The  Basket  Woman. 

BRADISH,  SARAH  P. :  Sigmund  Wins  the  Sword  (Old  Norse  Stories). 

BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  St.  Bridget  and  the  King's  Wolf  (Book  of  Saints 
and  Friendly  Beasts). 

CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :  The  Risks  of  a  Fireman's  Life  (Ethics  for  Chil- 
dren). 

MARDEN,  O.  S. :  The  Blacksmith's  Boy  (Winning  Out). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :   Prince  Siddartha  (Wandering  Heroes). 

RHEAD,  J.  S. :  The  Voyages  of  Sindbad  the  Sailor  (Arabian  Nights). 

STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  History  of  Labor  Day  (Days  and  Deeds). 

WARMAN,  CY  :  Jack  Farley's  Flying  Switch  (Short  Rails). 


364  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

October 

BRADISH,  SARAH  P. :  Sigmund  and  Sinfiotli,  The  Death  of  Sigmund 

(Old  Norse  Heroes). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :   Peter  the  Great,  the  Boy  of  the  Kremlin  (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
MOORE,  CHARLES  W. :    In  Search  of  the  Grand  Khan,  The  Garden  of 

Eden  (Christopher  Columbus). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :  The  First  Battle  of  Cyrus  the  Great  (Wandering  Heroes). 
RHEAD,  J.  S. :  Coga  Hassan  (Arabian  Nights). 

STEVENSON,  R.  L. :  Black  Andie's  Tale  of  Tod  Lapraik  (David  Balfour). 
STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  The  History  of  Hallowe'en. 

November 

ABBOTT,  J.  S.  C. :   The  Humanity  and  Self-Denial  of  Miles  Standish. 

The  Visit  of  Samoset  (Miles  Standish). 
BALDWIN,  JAMES:   John  Gutenberg  and  the  Voices,  The  First  Printer 

(Thirty  More  Famous  Stories). 
BRADISH,  SARAH   P. :   Regin's  Story,  Forging  the  Sword   (Old  Norse 

Heroes). 
GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:    Jacopo,  the    Little    Dyer  (Boyhood 

Stories  of  Famous  Men). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :   Frederick  the  Great,  the  Boy  of  Potsdam  (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
PRICE,  L.  L. :  The  Khan  of  the  Silver  Crown  (Wandering  Heroes). 

December 

AUSTIN,  MARY:  The  Christmas  Tree  (The  Basket  Woman). 
BRADISH,  SARAH  P. :  Brynhild  (Old  Norse  Heroes). 
LAOERLOF,  SELMA  :   The  Wise  Men's  Well  (Christ  Legends). 
OLCOTT,  F.  J. :    The  Three  Kings  of  Cologne  (Good  Stories  for  Great 

Holidays). 

RHEAD,  J.  S. :   Aladdin  and  the  Wonderful  Lamp  (Arabian  Nights). 
RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :  Tomorrow  (The  Golden  Windows). 
WALSH,  K. :   St.  Nicholas  and  the  Three  Purses  (The  Story  of  Santa 

Claws). 
WIGGIN,  K.  D. :  The  Ruggles'  Christmas  Dinner  (The  Birds'  Christmas 

Carol). 

January 

BALDWIN,  JAMBS  :  King  John  and  Prince  Arthur  (Thirty  More  Famous 
Stories). 


Stories  for  the  Seventh  Grade  365 

BOUTET  DE  MONVEL,  L.  M. :  The  Story  of  Joan  of  Arc  (Joan  of  Arc). 

BRADISH,  SARAH  P. :  Sigurd  and  the  Niblungs,  The  Wooing  of  Bryn- 
hild,  The  Death  of  Sigurd  (Old  Norse  Stories). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  John  Paul  Jones,  the  Boy  of  the  Atlantic  (Historic 
Boyhoods). 

LAGERLOF,  SELMA  :  The  Animals'  New  Year's  Eve  (The  Further  Adven- 
tures of  Nils). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :   The  Twelve  Months  (Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :   Clovis  the  Frank  (Wandering  Heroes). 

RHEAD,  J.  S. :   Ali  Baba  and  the  Forty  Thieves  (Arabian  Nights). 

February 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  King  John  and  the  Magna  Charta  (Thirty  More 
Famous  Stories). 

DRAKE,  S.  A. :  The  Washington  Elm  (New  England  Legends). 

GILBERT,  ARIADNE  :   The  Matterhorn  of  Men  (More  than  Conquerors). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  Mozart  the  Boy  of  Salzburg,  George  Washington 
the  Boy  of  the  Old  Dominion  (Historic  Boyhoods). 

LODGE,  HENRY  CABOT:  He  Resigns  His  Commission  (George  Wash- 
ington, Vol.  I,  page  338). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Courage  of  His  Convictions  (Good  Stories  for  Great 
Holidays). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :   The  Dwarf  of  Attila  the  Hun  (Wandering  Heroes). 

SCHAUFFLER,  R.  H. :    Anecdotes  and  Stories  (Washington's  Birthday). 

TAPPAN,  EVA  M. :   A  Winter  at  Valley  Forge  (American  Hero  Stories). 

WHIPPLE,  WAYNE:  Lincoln's  First  Dollar,  A  Feat  of  Mercy  and 
Strength  (The  Story  Life  of  Lincoln). 

March 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Frederick  Barbarossa  (Thirty  More  Famous  Stories). 
BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :    Saint  Wartburg  and  Her  Goose  (Book  of  Saints 

and  Friendly  Beasts). 
GILBERT,   ARIADNE:    Beethoven,  the  Blind    Musician    (More     than 

Conquerors). 

HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL:   The  Liberty  Tree  (Grandfather's  Chair). 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH:    The  Dream  of  Owen  Mulready  (More  Celtic  Fairy 

Tales). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :  The  Saga  of  the  Land  of  Grapes  (Wandering  Heroes). 
STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  What  Easter  Is  (Days  and  Deeds). 
WIGGIN,  K.  D.,  and  SMITH,  NORA  A. :    The  Lion,  the  Fox,  and  the 

Story-Teller  (Talking  Beast  Fables  from  India). 


366  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

April 

AUSTIN,  MARY  :   The  Merry-go-Round  (The  Basket  Woman). 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:   The  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask  (Thirty  More  Famous 
Stories). 

BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :  Gerasimus  and  the  Lion  (Book  of  Saints  and  Friendly 
Beasts). 

BURROUGHS,  JOHN  :   The  Downy  Woodpecker  (Bird  Stories). 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :   Why  the  Hawk  Catches  Chickens  (Uncle  Remus  and 
His  Friends). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  Horatio  Nelson,  the  Boy  of  the  Channel  Fleet  (His- 
toric Boyhoods). 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Jack,  the  Cunning  Thief  (More  Celtic  Fairy  Tales). 

KOROLENKO,  Z. :  The  Procession  of  Passion  Week  hi  Seville  (The  Book 
of  Easter). 

PRICE,  L.  L. :  Godwin  and  Knut  (Wandering  Heroes). 

SETON,  ERNEST  THOMPSON  :    Arnaux,  the    Chronicle  of   a    Homing 
Pigeon  (Animal  Heroes). 

May 

AUSTIN,  MARY:    The  Coyote  Spirit  and  the  Weaving  Woman  (The 

Basket  Woman). 
BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  Hannibal,  the  Boy  of  Carthage  (Thirty  More  Famous 

Stories). 

DYER,  WALTER  A. :  The  Opening  of  the  Eyes  of  Jasper  (The  Richer  Life). 
HARRIS,  J.  C. :   Brer  Bear   and  the  Honey  (Uncle  Remus  and  His 

Friends). 
HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL:    The  May  Pole  at  Merry  Mount  (Twice 

Told  Tales). 

HoLLAm>,  R.  S. :  Robert  Fulton,  the  Boy  of  Conestoga  (Historic  Boy- 
hoods). 
LANSING,  M.  F. :  Godfrey,  a  Knight  of  the  Crusades  (Page,  Esquire, 

and  Knight). 
PARTRIDGE,  E.  N.  and  G.  E. :  The  Boy  Abraham  (Story-Telling  in  the 

Home  and  School). 
SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :  The  Monk  and  the  Bird  (LYMAN  :  Story-Telling: 

What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It). 

June 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:    Friar  Bacon  and  the  Brazen  Head  (Thirty  More 

Famous  Stories). 
GILBERT,  ARIADNE  :  The  Star  Showers  Baby  (More  than  Conquerors). 


Stones  for  the  Eighth  Grade      .  367 

HARRIS,  J.  C. :  Why  Brer  Bull  Growls  and  Grumbles  (Uncle  Remus  and 

His  Friends). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :   Andrew  Jackson,  the  Boy  of  the  Carolinas  (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :    Agassiz  at   Penikese,  A  Cuban  Fisherman, 

How  the  Trout  Came  to  California,  The  Story  of  a  Strange  Land, 

The  Fate  of  Icodorum  (Science  Stories). 
LANSING,  M.  F. :    St.  George  and  the  Dragon  (Page,  Esquire,  and 

Knight). 

PHELPS,  E.  S. :  David  and  Jonathan  (David  and  Jonathan). 
SLY,  W.  R. :   The   Heroine   of   Gettysburg,  The   Man  Who  Wrote 

"  America,"  Jenny  Lind,  Singer  (World  Stories  Retold). 
The  Story  of  the  Star-Spangled  Banner  (St.  Nicholas,  June,  1914). 

EIGHTH  GRADE 

September 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :   Helena  of  Britain  (Historic  Girls). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  The  Boy  of  Cadore,  The  Joyous  Vaga- 
bond (Boyhood  Stories  of  Famous  Men). 

CHAPIN,  ANNA  ALICE:  Parsifal,  a  Knight  of  the  Grail  (The  Story  of 
Parsifal). 

DYER,  WALTER  A. :  The  Vision  of  Anton  the  Clockmaker  (The  Richer 
Life). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  Napoleon  Bonaparte  (Historic  Boyhoods). 

MACMANUS,  SEUMAS:   Billy  Beg  and  His  Bull  (In  Chimney  Corners). 

RENNINGER,  E.  D. :  Rustem,  the  Wonder  Child,  Rustem,  the  Young 
Warrior  (The  Story  of  Rustem). 

October 

DICKENS,  CHARLES:   The  Speaking  Rat  (The  Uncommercial  Traveller). 

IRVING,  WASHINGTON  :  The  First  Landing  of  Columbus  in  the  New 
World,  The  Building  of  the  Fortress  La  Navidad,  Reception  of 
Columbus  by  the  Spanish  Court  at  Barcelona,  Columbus  and  His 
Brothers  Arrested  and  Sent  to  Spain,  The  Death  of  Columbus 
(Life  and  Voyages  of  Christopher  Columbus);  The  Devil  and 
Tom  Walker  (Tales  of  a  Traveller). 

RENNINGER,  E.  D. :  The  Seven  Labors  of  Rustem,  Rustem  the  Pehliva 
(The  Story  of  Rustem).  (Omit  the  romance  in  this  last  tale.) 

STEVENSON,  R.  L. :   The  Bottle  Imp  (Island  Nights'  Entertainments). 


368  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

November 

ABBOTT,  J.  S.  C. :  The  Mother  of  Kidnapped  Indians,  The  Search  for 
Corn,  The  Shipwrecked  Frenchmen  (Miles  Siandish). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP  :  When  Mozart  Raced  with  Marie  An- 
toinette (Boyhood  Stories  of  Famous  Men). 

RENNINGER,  E.  D. :  Sohrab  and  the  Youth  (The  Story  of  Rustem). 

SCHAUFFLER,  R.  H. :  The  Thanksgiving  Guest,  Two  Notable  Thanks- 
givings (Thanksgiving). 

SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :  The  Flying  Dutchman,  King  Cophetua  and  the 
Beggar,  The  Image  and  the  Treasure  (Book  of  Legends). 

December 

BOUTET  DE  MONVEL,  L.  M. :  The  Girlhood  of  Joan  of  Arc  and  the 
Call  of  the  Voices,  Attack  and  Delivery  of  Orleans  (The  Story  of 
Joan  of  Arc). 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :  Edith  of  Scotland  (Historic  Girls). 

HARTE,  BRET:  How  Santa  Glaus  Came  to  Simpson's  Bar  (The  Luck  of 
Roaring  Camp). 

HUGO,  VICTOR  :  Cosette  (Les  Miserables). 

MACMANUS,  SEUMAS  :  Shan  Beth  and  Ned  Flyn  (In  Chimney  Corners). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  The  Christmas  Fairy  of  Strasburg  (Good  Stories  for 
Great  Holidays). 

RENNINGER,  E.  D. :  The  Wrath  of  Rustem,  Combat  of  Sohrab  against 
Rustem  (The  Story  of  Rustem). 

STOCKTON,  FRANK  R. :  The  Christmas  Truants  (Fanciful  Tales'). 

VAN  DYKE,  HENRY:  The  Mansion  (The  Mansion);  The  First  Christ- 
mas Tree  (The  First  Christmas  Tree) ;  The  Other  Wise  Man  (The 
Other  Wise  Man). 

WALLACE,  LEW  :  The  Journey  of  the  Magi  (Ben  Hur). 

January 

CHURCH,  ALFRED  J. :  The  Adventure  of  Ulysses  with  the  Cyclops, 
The  Home  of  the  Winds  and  the  Palace  of  Circe,  The  Sirens, 
Scylla  and  Charybdis,  What  Happened  in  Ithaca,  An  Island 
Prison,  A  Princess  Washing  Clothes,  Ulysses  at  Home  (Odyssey 
for  Boys  and  Girls). 

GUERBER,  H.  A. :  Charlemagne  Blessing  the  Vineyards  (Legends  of  the 
Rhine.  Use  also  the  poem,  The  Silver  Bridge,  in  the  same  book). 

SLY,  W.  R. :  Horatius  at  the  Bridge  (World  Stories  Retold.  Use 
also  Macaulay's  poem). 


Stories  for  the  Eighth  Grade  369 

February 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:  A  Shepherd  Lad  of  Tuscany,  The 
Light  of  Guide's  Lamp,  A  Bit  o'  Pink  Verbena  (Boyhood  Stories 
of  Famous  Men). 

HIGGEVSON,  T.  W. :  The  Story  of  Atlantis,  Taliessin  of  the  Radiant 
Bow  (Tales  of  the  Enchanted  Islands  of  the  Atlantic). 

HOLLAND,  R.-S. :  James  Fenimore  Cooper  (Historic  Boyhoods). 

LODGE,  HENRY  CABOT  :  The  British  at  Mount  Vernon  (George  Wash- 
ington, Vol.  I,  page  295);  Washington  Offered  the  Supreme 
Power  (George  Washington,  Vol.  I,  page  328). 

OLCOTT,  F.  J. :  Training  for  the  Presidency,  George  Picket's  Friend 
(Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays). 

RHEAD,  J.  S. :  Adventures  of  Haroun  al  Raschid  (Arabian  Nights). 

STOCKTON,  FRANK  R. :  The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  (Fanciful  Tales). 

March 

BALDWIN,  JAMES:  Eureka  (Thirty  More  Famous  Stories). 

BOUTET  DE  MONVEL,  L.  M. :  Joan's  Trial  and  Death  (Joan  of  Are). 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :  Woo  of  Hwang  Ho  (Historic  Girls). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  Florence  Nightingale  (Ethics  for  Children). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  John  Ericsson,  the  Boy  of  the  Gotha  Canal  (His- 
toric Boyhoods). 

KOROLENKO,  Z. :  Easter  Eve  (The  Book  of  Easter). 

RENNINGER,  E.  D. :  How  Rustem  Trained  Saiwush  and  Avenged 
Him,  The  Later  Feats  of  Rustem  (The  Story  of  Rustem). 

STEVENSON,  MRS.  E.  S. :  What  Easter  Is  (Days  and  Deeds). 

April 

BROOKS,  E.  S. :  Christina  of  Sweden  (Historic  Girls). 

BURROUGHS,  JOHN  :    The  House  Wren,  The  Screech  Owl,  The  Song 

Sparrow  (Bird  Stories). 
GOULD,  F.  J. :   WTiy  the  Romans  Bore  Pain,  The  Second  Founder  of 

Rome  (The  Children's  Plutarch). 
HIGGINSON,  T.  W. :   The  Swan  Children  of  Lir,  Usheen  in  the  Island 

of  Youth,  Bran  the  Blessed  (Tales  of  the  Enchanted  Islands  of  the 

Atlantic). 
HOLLAND,  R.  S. :    Garibaldi,  the  Boy  of  the  Mediterranean  (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
LANSING,  M.  F. :  Chevalier  Bayard  (Page,  Esquire,  and  Knight). 


370  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

MACMANUS,  SEUMAS:   Rory  the  Robber  (In  Chimney  Corners). 
RENNINGER,  E.  D. :   The  Story  of  Isfendiyar,  The  Death  of  Rustem 
(The  Story  of  Rustem). 

May 

AUSTIN,  MARY  :  The  Stream  That  Ran  Away  (OLCOTT  :  Good  Stories 
for  Great  Holidays). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  The  Fight  against  Yellow  Fever  (Ethics  for 
Children). 

GATHER,  KATHERINE  DUNLAP:  The  Tomboy  from  Bordeaux  (Boy- 
hood Stories  of  Famous  Men). 

GILBERT,  ARIADNE  :  Through  Failure  to  Success  (More  than  Conquerors). 

GOULD,  F.  J. :  The  Man  Who  Waited  (The  Children's  Plutarch). 

HIGGINSON,  T.  W. :  The  Castle  of  the  Active  Door,  Maeldun's  Voyage, 
The  Voyage  of  St.  Brandon,  Harald  the  Viking  (Tales  of  the  En- 
chanted Islands  of  the  Atlantic). 

HOLLAND,  R.  S. :  Charles  Dickens,  the  Boy  of  the  London  Streets 
(Historic  Boyhoods). 

WILSON,  C.  D. :  How  Rodrigo  Was  Knighted  and  Received  the  Name 
of  Cid,  The  Banishment  of  the  Cid  (The  Story  of  the  Cid). 

June 

BROWN,  ABBIE  F. :    Kenneth  and  the  Gulls   (Book  of  Saints  and 

Friendly  Beasts). 

CABOT,  ELLA  L. :  Sister  Dora  (Ethics  for  Children). 
DAUDET,  ALPHONSE  :   The  Last  Lesson  (BRYANT  :   How  to  Tell  Stories 

to  Children). 
GOULD,  F.  J. :    How  a  Woman  Saved  Rome,  A  Roman  Undismayed 

(The  Children's  Plutarch). 
HIGGINSON,  T.   W. :    The  Search  for  Norumbega,   Bimini   and  the 

Fountain  of  Youth  (Tales  of  the  Enchanted  Islands  of  the  Atlantic). 
JUDSON,  K.  B. :   Why  Grizzly  Bear  Goes  on  All  Fours  (Myths  of  Cali- 
fornia and  the  Old  Southwest). 
LODGE,  H.  C.,  and  ROOSEVELT,  T.  :  Remember  the  Alamo,  The  Flag 

Bearer  (Frontier  Towns). 
MACMANUS,  SEUMAS:    Jack  and   the  King  Who  Was  a  Gentleman 

(In  Chimney  Corners). 

TAPPAN,  EVA  M. :  Israel  Putnam  (American  Hero  Stories). 
WILSON,  C.  D. :  The  Cid's  Successors  in  the  Land  of  the  Moors,  The 

Cid  Returns  Aid  to  the  King  (The  Story  of  the  Cid). 


COMPLETE  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


COMPLETE  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ABBOTT,  JACOB  :   Life  of  Genghis  Khan.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
ABBOTT,  JOHN  STEVENS  CABOT:   Miles  Standish.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
ABBOTT,  LYMAN  :  Life  and  Literature  of  the  Ancient  Hebrews.  Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 
ADAMS,   WILLIAM:    Fables  and    Rhymes  —  JEsop  and    Mother  Goose. 

American  Book  Co. 

AGUILAB,  GRACE  :   The  Women  of  Israel.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
ALDEN,    RAYMOND    MACDONALD:     Why   the    Chimes    Rang.    Bobbs- 

Merrill  Co. 
ALLISON,  S.  B.,  and  PERDUE,  H.  A. :   The  Story  in  Primary  Instruction. 

A.  Flanagan  Co. 
ANDERSEN,  HANS    CHRISTIAN  :    Wonder    Stories    Told  for    Children. 

Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
ANDERSON,  RASMUS  BJORN:    The   Younger  Edda.    Scott,  Foresman 

&Co. 

ANTIN,  MARY  :   The  Promised  Land.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
ARNOLD,  SARA  LOUISE,    and  GILBERT,    CHARLES  :    Stepping  Stones  to 

Literature  —  Book  3.     Silver,  Burdett  &  Co. 
AsBJ0RNSEN,   PETER  CHRISTEN:    Fairy   Tales  from    the  Far  North. 

A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

The  Fairy  World.     De  Wolfe  &  Fiske  Co. 
AUSTIN,  MARY  :    The  Basket  Woman.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
BACON,  MARY  SCHELL  HOKE  :  Pictures  That  Every  Child  Should  Know. 

Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN  :   Firelight  Stories.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
For  the  Story-Teller.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
Stories  and  Rhymes  for  the  Child.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
Story-Telling  Time.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
BAILEY,  CAROLYN  SHERWIN,  and  LEWIS,  CLARA  M. :  For  the  Children's 

Hour.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 

BALDWIN,  JAMES  :  American  Book  of  Golden  Deeds.    American  Book  Co. 
Discovery  of  the  Old  Northwest.    American  Book  Co. 
Fifty  Famous  People.     American  Book  Co. 
Fifty  Famous  Stories  Retold.    American  Book  Co. 
Hero  Tales  Told  in  School.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
Old  Stories  of  the  East.     American  Book  Co. 
Second  Fairy  Reader.     American  Book  Co. 
Story  of  Roland.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
Thirty  More  Famous  Stories.     American  Book  Co. 
BALLARD,  SUSAN  :  Fairy  Tales  from  Old  Japan.    Fleming  H.  Revell  Co. 

373 


374  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

BARING-GOULD,  SABINE:    Lives  of  the  Saints.    16  volumes.    F.  A. 

Stokes  Co. 
BARRIE,  JAMES:    Peter  Pan  in  Kensington  Gardens.     Charles  Scrib- 

ner's  Sons. 

BEARD,  JAMES  CARTER  :  Humor  in  Animals.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 
BECQUER,   GUSTAVO  ADOLFO:    Romantic  Legends  of  Spain.    T.   Y. 

Crowell  Co. 
BELL,   FLORENCE  EVELEEN:    Fairy   Tale  Plays.     Longmans,   Green 

&Co. 
BERGEN,   FANNY  DICKERSON  :    Glimpses  at  the  Plant  World.     Ginn 

&Co. 

BLAK.EWELL,  S.  E. :    True  Bird  Stories.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
BLUMENTHAL,  VERRA  X.  K.  DE  :   Folk  Tales  from  the  Russian.    Rand- 

McNally  Co. 
BOLTON,  SARAH  K. :   Famous  Leaders  among  Men.     T.  Y.  Crowell  Co. 

Lives  of  Poor  Boys  Who  Became  Famous.    T.  Y.  Crowell  Co. 
BOUTET  DE  MONVEL,  L.  M. :   The  Story  of  Joan  of  Arc.     Century  Co. 
BOYESEN,   HJALMAR  HJORTH:    Modern   Vikings.     Charles  Scribner's 

Sons. 
BRABOURNE,  EDWARD  KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN,  LORD:   River  Legends. 

E.  P.  Button  &  Co. 

BRADISH,  SARAH  POWERS  :   Old  Norse  Stories.    American  Book  Com- 
pany. 

BRADLEY,  WILL:    The  Wonder  Box.     Century  Co. 
BROOKS,  ELBRIDGE  S. :   Abraham  Lincoln.     De  Wolfe  &  Fiske  Co. 
Historic  Boys.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 
Historic  Girls.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

BROWN,  ABBIE  FARWELL  :  Book  of  Saints  and  Friendly  Beasts.    Hough- 
ton  Mifflin  Co. 

In  the  Days  of  Giants.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
BROWN,  ABBIE  FARWELL,  and  BELL,  JAMES  M. :    Tales  of   the  Red 

Children.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

BROWNING,  ROBERT  :  Poems.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
BRYANT,  SARA  CONE:    How  to  Tell  Stories  to  Children.    Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 

Stories  to  Tell  to  Children.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
BRYANT,  WILLIAM  CULLEN  :  Poems.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
BRYCE,  CATHERINE  TURNER  :   Fables  from  Afar.    Newson  &  Co. 

That's  Why  Stories.     Newson  &  Co. 
BUELL,   AUGUSTUS  C.~:   John  Paul  Jones,  Founder  of  the  American 

Navy.    2  volumes.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


Complete  Bibliography  375 

BULFINCH,  THOMAS  :    The  Age  of  Fable.    Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 
BUNCE,  JOHN  THACKRAY:    Fairy  Tales:    Their  Origin  and  Meaning. 

Macmillan  Co. 

BURGESS,  THORNTON  W. :   Bed-time  Stories.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
BURNHAM,  MAUD  :    Descriptive  Stories  for  All  the  Year.     Milton  Brad- 
ley Co. 

BURROUGHS,  JOHN  :  Bird  Stories.     Houghton  Mifilin  Co. 
Squirrels  and  Other  Fur-bearers.     Houghton  Mifilin  Co. 
CABOT,  ELLA  LYMAN  :  Ethics  for  Children.    Houghton  Mifllin  Co. 
CANTON,  WILLIAM  :   A  Child's  Book  of  Saints.    E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
GARY,  ALICE  :    Poems.     Hurst  &  Co. 
GATHER,    KATHERINE    DUNLAP:     Boyhood  Stories   of  Famous   Men. 

Century  Co. 

Pan  and  His  Pipes  and  Other  Stories.    Victor  Talking  Machine  Co. 
CHADWICK,  MARA  L.  PRATT-,  and  FREEMAN,  E.  GRAY  :   Chain  Stories 

and  Playlets.    World  Book  Co. 

CHAPIN,  ANNA  ALICE  :   Makers  of  Song.    Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
Masters  of  Music.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
The  Heart  of  Music.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
The  Story  of  Parsival.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
The  Story  of  the  Rhinegold.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
CHODZKO,  ALEXANDER  D.  B. :   Slav  Fairy  Tales.    A.  L.  Burt  &  Co. 
CHUBB,  PERCIVAL:    Festivals  and  Plays.    Harper  &  Brothers. 
CHURCH,  ALFRED  JOHN  :   Odyssey  for  Boys  and  Girls.     Macmillan  Co. 
CLINCH,  GEORGE:    Costume  from  Prehistoric  Times  to  End  of  Eight- 
eenth Century.     A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 
COE,  FANNY  E. :   First  Book  of  Stories  for  the  Story-Teller.    Houghton 

Mifilin  Co. 

Heroes  of  Everyday  Life.     Ginn  &  Co. 

COLLINS,  ARCHIE  F. :    The  Book  of  Stars.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
COMSTOCK,  JOHN  HENRY  :  Insect  Life.    D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
CONVERSE,  HARRIET  CLARKE  :   Myths  and  Legends  of  New  York  State. 

N.  Y.  State  Education  Department,  1908. 
COOKE,  FLORA  J. :    Nature  Myths  and  Stories  for  Little  Children.    A 

Flanagan  Co. 
COWLES,  JULIA  DARROW  :    The  Art  of  Story-Telling.    A.  C.  McClurg 

&Co. 
CREIGHTON,  LOUISE  VON  GLEHN  :  Some  Famous  Women.    Longmans, 

Green  &  Co. 

CROKER,  THOMAS  CROFTON  :   Fairy  Legends  and  Traditions  of  Ireland. 
P.  J.  Kennedy  &  Sons. 


376  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

CROWEST,  FREDERICK  JAMES  :  Life  of  Verdi.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
CURTIN,  JEREMIAH:    Myths  and  Folk  Tales  of  the  Russians,  Western 

Slavs,  and  Magyars.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
CURTIS,  ELNOHA  W. :   The  Dramatic  Instinct  in  Education.     Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 
DANA,  JAMES  D WIGHT  :    The  Geological  Story  Briefly  Told.     American 

Book  Co. 
DASENT,  WALTER  :    Popular  Tales  from  the  North.     G.  P.  Putnam's 

Sons. 
DAVIS,  MARY  H.,  and  CHOW-LEUNG  :   Chinese  Fables  and  Folk  Storiet. 

American  Book  Co. 

DEARMER,  MABEL  :  A  Child's  Life  of  Christ.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
DE  LA  RAMEE,  LOUISE  :   Bimbi  and  Other  Stories.     Ginn  &  Co. 
DICKENS,  CHARLES:   David  Copper  field. 
Nicholas  Nickleby. 
Old  Curiosity  Shop. 
The  Christmas  Carol. 
The  Uncommercial  Traveller. 

DICKINSON,  ASA  D.,  and  SKINNER,  ADA  M. :  Children's  Book  of  Christ- 
mas Stories.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
DILLINGHAM,   ELIZABETH  T.,   and  EMERSON,  AoELLE   P. :    "  Tell  It 

Again"  Stories.     Ginn  &  Co. 

DOANE,  T.  W. :  Bible  Myths.     Commonwealth  Co. 
DOLE,   NATHAN  HASKELL:    A   Score  of  Famous  Composers.     T.   Y. 

Crowell  Co. 
DRAKE,  SAMUEL   ADAMS:    New  England  Legends.     Little,  Brown  & 

Co. 

Du  CHAILLU,  PAUL  B. :   The  World  of  the  Great  Forest.     Charles  Scrib- 
ner's Sons. 
DUMAS,  ALEXANDRE,  SAND,  GEORGE,  and  Others:    Black  Diamonds. 

Harper  &  Brothers. 
Golden  Fairy  Book.    A.  L.  Burt  Co. 
DYE,  CHARITY:    The  Story-Teller's  Art.     Ginn  &  Co. 
DYER,  WALTER  A. :   The  Richer  Life.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
EASTMAN,  CHARLES  A. :   Indian  Boyhood.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

Old  Indian  Days.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
EASTMAN,  CHARLES  A.  and  ELAINE  :    Smoky  Day's  Wigwam  Evenings. 

Little,  Brown  &  Co. 

Wigwam  Evenings.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
EDWARDS,  CHARLES  LINCOLN  :  Bahama  Songs  and  Stories.    Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 


Complete  Bibliography  377 

EGGLESTON,  GEORGE  GARY  :    Strange  Stories  from  History  for   Young 

People.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
ELIOT,  GEORGE  :  Silas  Marner. 

The  Mill  on  the  Floss. 
ENGLISH,  THOMAS  DUNN:    Fairy  Stories  and  Wonder  Tales.    Hurst 

&Co. 

ENNIS,  LUNA  MAY  :  Music  in  Art.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 
FABRE,  J.  HENRI:    Insect  Adventures.     World  Book  Co. 
The  Hunting  Wasps.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
The  Life  of  a  Caterpillar.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
The  Life  of  a  Fly.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
The  Mason  Bees.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 

FARMER,  FLORENCE  V. :   Boy  and  Girl  Heroes.     Macmillan  Co. 
FISKE,  JOHN:    Myths  and  Myth  Makers.     Houghton  Mifilin  Co. 
The  Great  Epic  of  Israel.     Houghton  Mifilin  Co. 
The  Myths  of  Israel.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 

FLAGG,  WILSON  :  A  Year  with  the  Birds.     Educational  Publishing  Co. 
FOA,   MADAME  EUGENIE:    Boy  Life  of  Napoleon.    Lothrop,  Lee  & 

Shepard  Co. 
FORBUSH,  WILLIAM  BYRON  :    Manual  of  Stories.     American  Institute 

of  Child  Life. 

FORTIER,  ALCEE  :    Louisiana  Folk  Tales.     Houghton  Mifilin  Co. 
FOSTER,  MARY  H.,  and  CUMMINGS,  MABEL  H. :  Asgard  Stories.    Silver, 

Burdett  &  Co. 
FRYBERGER,   AGNES  :    Listening  Lessons   in  Music.    Silver,  Burdett 

&Co. 

FRYE,  ALEXIS  EVERETT  :  Brooks  and  Brook  Basins.     Ginn  &  Co. 
GALLAGHER,  JAMES  E. :  Best  Lincoln  Stories.     M.  A.  Donohue  &  Co. 
GATTY,  MARGARET  :   Parables  from  Nature.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
GILBERT,  ARIADNE:    More  than  Conquerors.     Century  Co. 
GILCHRIST,  BETH  BRADFORD  :   Life  of  Mary  Lyon.    Houghton  Mifilin 

Co. 

GOLDENBERG,  SAMUEL  L. :   Lace,  Its  Origin  and  History.     Brentano's. 
GOULD,    FREDERICK.    JAMES:     The    Children's    Plutarch.     Harper    & 

Brothers. 

GRAVES,  ALFRED  PERCEVAL  :   The  Irish  Fairy  Book.    F.  A.  Stokes  Co. 
GRIERSON,  E.  W. :    Book  of  Celtic  Stories.     Macmillan  Co. 

Tales  from  Scottish  Ballads.     Macmillan  Co. 
GRIFFIS,  WILLIAM  ELLIOT:    The  Unmannerly  Tiger  and  Other  Korean 

Tales.     T.  Y.  Crowell  Co. 
GRIMM,  JACOB  :    German  Household  Tales.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 


378  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

GRINNELL,  ELIZABETH  and  JOSEPH  :   Birds  of  Song  and  Story.    A.  W. 

Mumford. 

Neighbors  of  Field,  Wood,  and  Stream.     F.  A.  Stokes  Co. 
GROOS,  KARL:    The  Play  of  Animals.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
GROSS,  H. :   Lincoln's  Own  Stories.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
GUERBER,  HELENE  A. :   Legends  of  Switzerland.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
Legends  of  the  Middle  Ages.     American  Book  Co. 
Legends  of  the  Rhine.     A.  S.  Barnes  Co. 
Stories  of  the  Wagner  Operas.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
Story  of  the  English.     American  Book  Co. 
Story  of  Modern  France.     American  Book  Co. 
Story  of  Old  France.     American  Book  Co. 

HAIGHT,  RACHEL  WEBB  :    Index  of  Fairy  Tales.     Boston  Book  Co. 
HALL,  I.  FREEMAN,  and  LENNOX,  ELIZABETH  D. :    Red  Letter  Days. 

Silver,  Burdett  &  Co. 
HARDY,   MARY  H. :    Indian  Legends  from  Geyser  Land.     Rand-Mc- 

Nally  &  Co. 

HARRIS,  F.  J. :    Plays  for  Young  People.     Castle  Co.,  London. 
HARRIS,    JOEL    CHANDLER:     Little    Mr.     Thimblefinger.    Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 

Nights  with  Uncle  Remus.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
Plantation  Pageants.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
Uncle  Remus  and  His  Friends.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
HARRISON,  ELIZABETH:    In  Story-land.     Central  Publishing  Co. 
HART,  ALBERT  B.,  and  STEVENS,  ELIZABETH:    Romance  of  the  Civil 

War.     Macmillan  Co. 

HARTE,  BRET  :    The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
HARTLAND,  E.  SIDNEY:    The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales.     Charles  Scrib- 

ner's  Sons. 

HARTMANN,  SADAKICHI  :  Japanese  Art.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 
HASBROUCK,  LOUISE  S. :   Fabre's  Insect  Adventures.     World  Book  Co. 
HAUFF,  WILHELM:    Caravan  Tales.  (Arabian  Days'  Entertainments). 

Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
HA WKES,  CLARENCE:  Shovelhorns:  the  Biography  of  a  Moose.     George 

W.  Jacobs  Co. 

HAWTHORNE,  NATHANIEL:   Grandfather's  Chair. 
Tanglewood  Tales. 
Twice  Told  Tales. 

HEARN,  LAFCADIO:    Kwaidan.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
HEBER,  ELIZABETH,  and  GARFIELD,  GRACE:   A  Child's  Story  Garden. 
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HENSEL,  SEBASTIAN  :    History  of  the  Mendelssohn  Family.    2  volumes. 

Harper  &  Brothers. 

HIGGINSON,  THOMAS  WENTWORTH:    American  Explorers.     Longmans, 
Green  &  Co. 

Tales  of  the  Enchanted  Islands  of  the  Atlantic.     Macmillan  Co. 
HODGES,  GEORGE  :  A  Child's  Guide  to  the  Bible.    Baker  &  Taylor  Co. 
HOLBROOK,  FLORENCE  :  Book  of  Nature  Myths.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 

Bound  the  Year  in  Myth  and  Song.     American  Book  Co. 
HOLDER,  CHARLES  F. :    Stories  of  Animal  Life.     American  Book  Co. 
HOLLAND,  RUPERT  SARGENT  :  Historic  Boyhoods.    George  W.  Jacobs  Co. 
HOUGHTON,  LOUISE  SEYMOUR  :   Hebrew  Life  and  Thought.    University 
of  Chicago  Press. 

Telling  Bible  Stories.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

The  Bible  in  Picture  and  Story.     American  Tract  Co. 
HOURTICQ,  Louis:    Art  in  France.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
HOWELLS,  WILLIAM  DEAN  :  Christmas  Every  Day.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
HOXIE,  JANE:    A  Kindergarten  Story  Book.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
HUGO,  VICTOR:    Les  Miserables.     2  volumes.     M.  A.  Donohue  &  Co. 
HURLL,  ESTELLE  M. :    Child  Life  in  Art.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 

The  Madonna  in  Art.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 
INGERSOLL,   ERNEST:    Wild  Life  of  Orchard  and  Field.    Harper  & 

Brothers. 
IRVING,  WASHINGTON:    Tales  from  the  Alhambra.     Ginn  &  Co. 

The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Christopher  Columbus.     A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

The  Sketch  Book.     A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

JACKSON,  E. :  History  of  Hand-Made  Lace.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
JACOBS,  JOSEPH  :  Celtic  Fairy  Tales.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

English  Fairy  Tales.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

Europa's  Fairy  Book.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

More  Celtic  Fairy  Tales.     G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 
JOHNSON,  CLIFTON:   Oak  Tree  Stories.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
JOHONNOT,  JAMES  :    Ten  Great  Events  in  History.     American  Book  Co. 
JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR  :   Science  Sketches.    A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 

The  Book  of  Knight  and  Barbara.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
JUDD,  MARY  CATHERINE  :   Wigwam  Stories.     Ginn  &  Co. 
JUDSON,  KATHARINE  B. :  Myths  and  Legends  of  the  Great  Plains.    A.  C. 
McClurg  &  Co. 

Myths  and  Legends  of  Alaska.     A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 

Myths  and  Legends  of  the  Pacific  Northwest.     A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 

Myths  of  California  and  the  Old  Southwest.     A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 
KBIGHTLEY,  THOMAS  :  Fairy  Mythology.     Macmillan  Co. 


380  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

KENNEDY,   HOWARD  ANGUS:     The  New   World  Fairy  Book.     E.   P. 

Dutton  &  Co. 
KENT,  CHARLES  FOSTER  :   Heroes  and  Crises  of  Early  Hebrew  History. 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

KEYES,  ANGELA  M. :   Stories  and  Story-Telling.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
KINGSLEY,  CHARLES:    Greek  Heroes.     Henry  Altemus. 

Hypatia.     Century  Co. 

Water  Babies.     Macmillan  Co. 

Westward  Ho!    A.  L.  Burt  Co. 
KIPLING,  RUDYARD:    Jungle  Book.     Century  Co. 

Just  So  Stories.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

Second  Jungle  Book.     Century  Co. 

KNIGHT,  JAMES  :  Food  and  Its  Function.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
KOROLENKO,  Z. :   The  Book  of  Easter.     Macmillan  Co. 
LABOULAYE,   EDOUARD  RENE  :    Fairy   Tales  of  All  Nations.     E.   P. 
Dutton  &  Co. 

Last  Fairy  Tales.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
LAGERLOF,  SELMA  :   Christ  Legends.     Henry  Holt  &  Co. 

The  Wonderful  Adventures  of  Nils.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

The  Further  Adventures  of  Nils.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
LAMB,  CHARLES  and  MARY  :   Tales  from  Shakespeare. 
LANG,  ANDREW  :  Animal  Story  Book.     Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 

Blue  Fairy  Book.     A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

Green  Fairy  Book.     A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

Lilac  Fairy  Book.     Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 

Orange  Fairy  Book.     Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 

Red  Fairy  Book.    A.  L.  Burt  Co. 

True  Story  Book.     Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 

Yellow  Fairy  Book.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
LANG,  JEANIE  :  Robert  the  Bruce.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 

Stories  from  Shakespeare  Told  to  Children.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 

The  Story  of  General  Gordon.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
LANIER,  SIDNEY  :   The  Boy's  King  Arthur.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

The  Boy's  Mabinogion.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
LANSING,  MARION  FLORENCE  :  Page,  Esquire,  and  Knight.     Ginn  &  Co. 

Quaint  Old  Stories  to  Read  and  Act.     Macmillan  Co. 
LEA,  JOHN:  Romance  of  Bird  Life.     J.  B.  Lippincott  Co. 
LINDSAY,  MAUD  :  Mother  Stories.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 

More  Mother  Stories.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 

The  Story-Teller  for  Little  Children.     Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 


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LOCKHART,  JOHN  GIBSON:    Ancient  Spanish  Ballads.     E.  P.  Button 

&Co. 
LODGE,  HENRY  CABOT:    George   Washington.     2  volumes.  Houghton 

MifflinCo. 
LODGE,  HENRY  CABOT,  and  ROOSEVELT,  THEODORE  :  Frontier  Towns, 

and  Other  Essays.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

LONGFELLOW,  HENRY  WADSWORTH:    Poems.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
LOWELL,  FRANCIS  CABOT  :   Joan  of  Arc.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
LOWES,   EMILY  LEIGH:    Chats  on  Old  Lace  and  Needlework.     F.  A. 

Stokes  Co. 
LUTKENHAUS,  ANNA  M.,  and  KNOX,  MARGARET:    Plays  for  School 

Children.     Century  Co. 
LYMAN,  EDNA  :   Story-Telling:   What  to  Tell  and  How  to  Tell  It.    A.  C. 

McClurg  &  Co. 

MABIE,  HAMILTON  W. :  Folk  Tales  Every  Child  Should  Know.     Double- 
day,  Page  &  Co. 

Norse  Stories  from  the  Eddas.     Rand-McNally  &  Co. 
MACDONNELL,  ANNE:    Italian  Fairy  Book.    F.  A.  Stokes  Co. 
MACLEOD,  R. :   King  Arthur  and  His  Noble  Knights.     A.  L.  Burt  Co. 
MACMANUS,  SEUMAS  :    Donegal  Fairy  Tales.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

In  Chimney  Corners.     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 
McMuRRY,  CHARLES  A. :    Pioneers  of  the  Mississippi  Valley.     Mac- 

millan  Co. 

Special  Method  in  Primary  Reading.     Macmillan  Co. 
MAETERLINCK,  MADAME  MAURICE  :   The  Children's  Blue  Bird.    Dodd, 

Mead  &  Co. 

MAGRUDER,  C.  S. :  Tale  of  Ancient  Persia.  Broadway  Publishing  Co. 
MARCH,  DANIEL:  Night  Scenes  in  the  Bible.  Seigler,  McCurdy  Co. 
MARDEN,  ORISON  SWETT  :  Winning  Out.  Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 
MARSHALL,  H.  E. :  Stories  of  Roland.  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 

The  Story  of  William  Tell.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
MATHESON,  GEORGE:    Representative  Men  of  the  Bible.     3  volumes. 

George  H.  Doran  Co. 

MATTHEWS,  AGNES:    The  Champions  of  Christendom.     Ginn  &  Co. 
MENEFEE,  MAUD:    Child  Stories  from  the  Masters.    Rand-McNally 

&Co. 

MILES,  ALFRED  H. :    Animal  Anecdotes.    F.  A.  Stokes  Co. 
MILLER,  ELLEN  R. :    Butterfly  and  Moth  Book.     Charles  Scribner's 

Sons. 

MILLER,  HARRIET:    Krisiy's  Rainy  Day  Picnics. 
True  Bird  Stories.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 


382  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

MILLER,  JOAQUTN  :   True  Bear  Stories.     Rand-McNally  &  Co. 
MILLER,  OLIVE  THORNE  :  The  Second  Book  of  Birds.     Houghton  Mifllin 

Co. 

MILLS,  ENDS  A. :   In  the  Beaver  World.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
MITFORD,  FREEMAN:    Tales  of  Old  Japan.     Macmillan  Co. 
MOORE,  CHARLES  W. :   Abraham  Lincoln.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 

Christopher  Columbus.     Houghton  Mifllin  Co. 
MORLEY,  MARGARET  W. :   Butterflies  and  Bees.     Ginn  &  Co. 
MORRIS,  WILLIAM:    Sigurd,  the  Volsung.     Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 
MORSE,  FRANCES  CLARY:    Furniture  of  the  Olden  Time.     Macmillan 

Co. 

MOULTON,  LOUISE  CHANDLER  :  Bed-time  Stories.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
NEPOS,  C. :   Tales  of  Great  Generals.     Oxford  Press. 
NICHOLSON,  J.  S. :   Tales  from  Ariosto.     Macmillan  Co. 
NIEBUHR,  BARTHOLD  GEORG  :  Greek  Hero  Stories.     Dodd,  Mead  &  Co. 
NixoN-RouLET,  MARY  F. :    Fairy  Tales  a  Child  Can  Read  and  Act. 

American  Book  Co. 

Japanese  Folk  Stories.    American  Book  Co. 
NORTON,  EDITH  ELIZA:    Pugs  in  Their  Native  Land.     Dodd,  Mead 

&Co. 
NOYES,  MARION  I.,  and  RAY,  BLANCHE  H. :    Little  Plays  for  Little 

People.     Ginn  &  Co. 

O'GRADY,  ALICE  :   The  Story-Teller's  Book.     Rand-McNally  &  Co. 
OLCOTT,   FRANCES  J. :    Bible  Stories  to   Read  and   Tell.     Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 

Good  Stories  for  Great  Holidays.    Houghton  Mifflin  Co. 
The  Arabian  Nights.     Henry  Holt  &  Co. 

OZAKI,  YEI  THEODORA  :  Japanese  Fairy  Tales.     A.  L.  Burt  &  Co. 
PARTRIDGE,  EMELYN  N.  and  GEORGE  E. :    Story-Telling  in  the  Home 

and  School.     Sturgis  &  Walton. 
PEABODY,  JOSEPHINE  PRESTON:    Old  Greek  Folk  Stories.    Houghton 

Mifflin  Co. 

PERRAULT,  CHARLES  :    Tales  for  Children  from  Many  Lands. 
PERRY,  F.  M.,  and  BEEBE,  KATHERINE:    Four  American  Pioneers. 

American  Book  Co. 
PERRY,  STELLA  GEORGE  STERN:    When  Mother  Lets  Us  Act.     Moffat, 

Yard  &  Co. 

PHELPS,  ELIZABETH  STUART  :  David  and  Jonathan.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
PIERSON,  CLARA  DILLINGHAM:    Among  the  Farmyard  People.    E.  P. 

Button  &  Co. 
PITMAN,  LEILA  WEBSTER  :  Stories  of  Old  France.    American  Book  Co. 


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PLANCHE,  JAMES  ROBINSON  :  History  of  British  Costume.    Macmillan  Co. 
PORTER,    GENE    STRATTON:     Moths    of   the    Limberlost.     Doubleday, 

Page  &  Co. 

PORTER,  JERMAIN  G. :  Stars  in  Song  and  Legend.     Ginn  &  Co. 
POTTER,  BEATRIX  :    Peter  Rabbit.     Frederick  Warne  &  Co. 

Squirrel  Nutkin.     Frederick  Warne  &  Co. 

POULSSON,  EMILIE:    Child  Stories  and  Rhymes.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
In  the  Child  World.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 
Top  of  the  World  Series.     Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 
PRATT,  M.  L. :    Stories  of  Colonial  Children.     Educational  Publishing 

Co. 
PRICE,   LILLIAN  LOUISE  :    Lads  and  Lassies  of  Other  Days.     Silver, 

Burdett  &  Co. 

Wandering  Heroes.     Silver,  Burdett  &  Co. 
PRINGLE,  MARY  P.,  and  URANN,  CLARA  A. :  Yule-Tide  in  Many  Lands. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 

PUMPHREY,  MARGARET  B. :    Pilgrim  Stories.     Band-McNally  Co. 
PYLE,   HOWARD:    Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood.     Charles 

Scribner's  Sons. 

Stories  of  King  Arthur  and  His  Knights.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
The  Wonder  Clock.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
QuiLLER-CoucH,  SIR  ARTHUR  THOMAS  :   The  Roll  Call  of  Honor.    Sully 

&  Kleinteich. 
RAGOZIN,    ZENAIDE    ALEXEIEVNA:     Siegfried   and   Beowulf.     G.    P. 

Putnam's  Sons. 

RAMASWAMI  RAJU  :  Indian  Fables.     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
RANSOM,  CAROLINE  LOUISE  :    Studies  in  Ancient  Furniture.     Univer- 
sity of  Chicago  Press. 
RENNINGER,  ELIZABETH  D. :   The  Story  of  Rustem.     Charles  Scribner's 

Sons. 

RHEAD,  J.  S. :  Arabian  Nights.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
RHYS,  ERNEST:  English  Fairy  Book  (Fairy  Gold).     E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co. 
RICE,  ALICE  HEGAN:    Betty's  Best  Christmas.     Century  Co. 
RICHARDS,  LAURA  E. :   Five  Minute  Stories.    Dana  Estes  &  Co. 
Florence  Nightingale,  the  Angel  of  the  Crimea.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
The  Golden  Windows.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
The  Pig  Brother.     Little,  Brown  &  Co. 

ROBERTS,  CHARLES  G.  D. :   Kindred  of  the  Wild.    L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 
Kings  in  Exile.     Macmillan  Co. 
Earth's  Enigmas.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 
Haunters  of  the  Silences.     L.  C.  Page  &  Co. 


384  Educating  by  Story-Telling 

ST.   JOHN,   PORTER:     The  Story   in   Moral  and  Religious  Education. 

Pilgrim  Press. 
SANGSTER,  MARGARET  E.,  and  YONGE,  CHARLOTTE  M. :   Stories  from 

the  Best  of  Books.     Harper  &  Brothers. 

SAWYER,  RUTH  :   This  Way  to  Christmas.     Harper  &  Brothers. 
SCHAUFFLER,  ROBERT  HAVEN:    Arbor  Day.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 
Book  of  Thanksgiving.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 
Christmas:  Its  Origin,  Celebration,  etc.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 
Lincoln's  Birthday.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 
Memorial  Day.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 
Washington's  Birthday.     Moffat,  Yard  &  Co. 

SCOBEY,  KATHRINE  L.,  and  HORNE,  OLIVE  B. :   Stories  of  Great  Musi- 
cians.    American  Book  Co. 

SCOTT,  EMMA  :    How  the  Flag  Became  Old  Glory.     Macmillan  Co. 
SCUDDER,  HORACE  E. :  Fables  and  Folk  Stories.     Houghton  Miffiin  Co. 

The  Children's  Book.     Houghton  Miffiin  Co. 

SEA  WELL,  MOLLY  ELLIOT  :  The  Son  of  Columbus.  Harper  &  Brothers. 
SETON,  ERNEST  THOMPSON  :  Animal  Heroes.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
SHARMAN,  LYON  :  Bamboo :  Tales  of  the  Orient  Born.  Paul  Elder  &  Co. 
SHEDLOCK,  MARIE  L. :  The  Art  of  the  Story-Teller.  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 
SIDGWICK,  ETHEL  :  Four  Plays  for  Children.  Small,  Maynard  &  Co. 
SINGLETON,  ESTHER:  Furniture  of  Our  Forefathers.  Doubleday, 

Page  &  Co. 
SKEAT,  WALTER  W. :    Fables  and  Folk-Tales  from  an  Eastern  Forest. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 
SKINNER,  ADA  M. :   Little  Folks'  Christmas  Stories  and  Plays.     Rand- 

McNally  &  Co. 

Stories  of  Wakeland  and  Dreamland.     Rand-McNally  &  Co. 
SKINNER,  CHARLES  M. :    American  Myths  and  Legends.     2  volumes. 

J.  B.  Lippincott  Co. 

Myths  and  Legends  beyond  Our  Borders.     J.  B.  Lippincott  Co. 
Myths  of  Plants,  Trees,  and  Flowers.    J.  B.  Lippincott  Co. 
SLOSSON,  ANNIE  TRUMBULL  :    Story-tell  Lib.     Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
SLY,  WILLIAM  J. :    World  Stories  Retold.     George  W.  Jacobs  Co. 
SMITH,  BERTHA  H. :    Yosemite  Legends.     Paul  Elder  Co. 
SMITH,  GEORGE  ADAM  :  A  Historic  Geography  of  the  Holy  Land.     George 

H.  Doran  Co. 
SMITH,  NORA  A. :   Old,  Old  Tales  from  the  Old,  Old  Book.     Doubleday, 

Page  &  Co. 

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COLLECTIONS    OF    STORIES    OF    WHICH    AUTHORS    ARE 
NOT  GIVEN 

Cat  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Civil  War  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Colonial  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Dumpy  Books  for  Children,  The.     Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co. 

Great  Masters  in  Painting  and  Sculpture.     George  Bell  &  Sons. 

Half  a  Hundred  Stories.     Milton  Bradley  Co. 

Indian  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Master  Musician  Series.     E.  P.  Button  &  Co. 

Our  Holidays  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Panther  Stories  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

St.  Nicholas  Book  of  Plays  and  Operettas.     Century  Co. 

Stories  from  the  Classic  Literature  of  Many  Nations.     Macmillan  Co. 

Stories  of  Chivalry  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 

Stories  of  the  Ancient  World  Retold  from  St.  Nicholas.     Century  Co. 


INDEX 


Abraham,  story  of,  suitable  for 
children  in  heroic  period,  124. 

Adventure  stories,  period  for  tell- 
ing, to  children,  32;  opportunity 
offered  by,  32-33 ;  class  of  per- 
nicious, 33 ;  examples  of  good, 
34-40;  sources  of  material  for, 
41 ;  found  in  Old  Testament, 
124-128. 

./Esop's  fables,  suitability  of,  for 
acting  in  pantomime,  114. 

Alp  horn,  Swiss  legend  of  the,  274. 

Alsatian  folk  tale,  "The  Story  of 
the  Man  in  the  Moon,"  203. 

American  Folklore  Society,  work 
of,  172. 

Andersen,  H.  C.,  high  character  of 
tales  by,  28 ;  beginnings  of  tales 
by,  54. 

Animals,  fascination  of  stories  in- 
troducing cries  and  calls  of,  14. 

"Apollo  and  Daphne,"  story  of,  of 
little  meaning  to  young  children, 
37. 

Arabian  folk  tales  retold,  195,  269. 

Art,  story-telling  to  awaken  an 
appreciation  of,  95-106;  music 
and,  to  be  drawn  upon  by  the 
Bible  story-teller,  129-130 ; 
story  to  use  in  connection  with 
teaching,  283. 

Arthur,  King,  stories  of,  as  sources 
of  material  for  heroic  period, 
35-36 ;  enjoyed  in  romantic 
period  43 ;  care  necessary  in 
use  of  tales  from,  43—44 ;  ma- 
terial for  dramatic  work  in, 
114. 

Aryan  theory,  Max  Muller's,  3. 

Bailey,  Carolyn  Sherwin,  Stories  for 

Sunday  Telling  by,  137. 
Bancroft,    George,    legend    "Why 

Grizzly  Bear  Goes  on  All  Fours  " 

adapted  from,  299. 


Basile,  Giambattista,  early  collec- 
tor of  fairy  tales,  26. 

"Bat  and  His  Partners,  The," 
story  of,  208. 

Bavarian  folk  tales,  208,  228. 

Bayard,  story  of,  admirable  for 
.heroic  period,  38. 

Beginnings  of  stories,  54-55. 

"Belle  au  Bois  Dormant,"  Per- 
rault's,  26. 

Ben  HUT,  to  be  read  by  tellers  of 
Bible  stories,  123. 

Bible  stories,  history  tales  suitable 
for  heroic  period  found  among, 
40;  in  The  Courtship  of  Miles 
Standish,  79-80 ;  discussion  of 
use  of,  in  story-telling,  118—130. 

Biographical  stories,  suitable  for 
heroic  period,  38-39;  types  of 
suited  to  romantic  period,  45-47 ; 
as  a  means  of  interesting  children 
in  authors'  works,  71-73 ;  use  of, 
in  field  of  art,  98-101 ;  material 
in,  for  teaching  of  ethics,  140; 
use  of,  in  history  teaching,  145- 
146;  story  of  "The  Duty  That 
Wasn't  Paid,"  278;  story  of 
" Wilhelmina's  Wooden  Shoes," 
283. 

"Blue  Beard,"  first  appearance  of, 
26 ;  not  suitable  for  children,  29. 

Bonheur,  Rosa,  pictures  by,  suit- 
able for  little  children,  99. 

"Boy  of  Old  Vienna,  A,"  story  of, 
89-93. 

Bradley,  Will,  "The  Wonder  Box" 
by,  28. 

Breton,  Jules,  introducing  children 
to  paintings  by,  103-104. 

"Brier  Rose,"  story  of,  25;  re- 
telling of,  209-212. 

Building  the  story,  52-57. 


Cabot,    Ella    Lyman,    Ethics  for 
Children  by,  136. 


389 


390 


Index 


Chapin,  Anna  Alice,  The  Story  of 
Parsifal  by,  44. 

Charlemagne,  stories  of  time  of, 
suitable  for  heroic  period,  37- 
38;  stories  of,  suitable  for 
romantic  period,  45. 

Children,  story  interests  of,  in 
rhythmic  period,  12  ff. ;  stages 
of  mental  growth  of,  determining 
story  interests,  13;  story  in- 
terests in  imaginative  period, 
20-30;  story  interests  in  heroic 
period,  32-41 ;  story  interests 
in  romantic  period,  42-50. 

Children's  Crusade,  story  of,  46. 

Chinese  folk  tale,  "How  They 
Came  to  Have  Kite  Day  in 
China,"  330. 

Christmas  stories,  203. 

Chubb,  Festivals  and  Plays  by,  114. 

Cid,  story  of  the,  suitable  for 
heroic  period,  38. 

"Cinderella,"  common  to  many 
lands,  25;  published  by  Per- 
rault,  27. 

Classics,  mistake  of  studying  by 
dissecting  process,  75-76 ;  study 
of,  by  story  method,  77-81. 

Claude  Lorrain,  works  of,  for 
children  of  intermediate  period, 
102. 

Climax,  working  up  to  a,  55-57 ; 
rapid  closing  of  story  after  reach- 
ing, 57. 

"Coat  of  All  Colors,  The,"  story 
of,  retold  from  Grimm,  212. 

Coffee,  story  of  discovery  of,  195- 
197. 

"Coming  of  the  Wonder  Tree, 
The, "  story  of,  269. 

Composers,  introducing  children 
to,  by  story-telling,  86-89. 

Contentment,  stories  teaching,  204, 
251. 

Contes  da  Temps  Passe  avec  Morali- 
tes,  publication  of,  27. 


Coral  polyp,  story  of  the,  185-186, 
188-190. 

Correggio,  acquainting  little  chil- 
dren with,  101. 

Courtship  of  Miles  Standish,  study 
of,  by  story  method,  79-80. 

Craig,  The  Dramatic  Festival  by, 
114. 

Cruelty,  an  undesirable  element  in 
stories,  29. 

"Cupid  and  Psyche,"  of  little 
meaning  to  young  children,  37. 

Darmancour,  P.,  collection  of  fairy 
tales  published  by,  26-27. 

Date  palm,  story  of  origin  of  the, 
269. 

"David  and  Jonathan,"  Miss 
Phelps's,  appeal  of,  for  chil- 
dren, 16. 

"  Dervish  of  Mocha,  The, "  Arabian 
folk  tale  retold,  195-197. 

Dialogue,  use  of,  in  story-telling, 
53 ;  change  of  voice  in,  to  add 
to  clearness  of  pictures,  64. 

Dickens,  Charles,  experience  of,  in 
recommending  fairy  tales  for 
children,  29. 

"  Discontented  Pig,  The, "  story  of, 
204-207. 

Dissection  method  of  studying 
classics  in  schools,  75-76. 

"  Dog  of  Flanders, "  Ouida's,  16. 

Dole,  Nathan  Haskell,  quoted, 
49. 

Domestic  science,  use  of  story- 
telling in,  192-197. 

Dramatization,  story-telling  and, 
107-116;  pictures,  books,  and 
stories  for  use  in,  116. 

Drunkenness  in  parents,  unde- 
sirable element  in  stories,  29-30. 

Dutch  legend,  "The  Lady  of 
Stavoren,"  289. 

"Duty  That  Wasn't  Paid,  The," 
story  of,  278. 


Index 


391 


"Easter  Eggs,  The,"  story  of,  229. 

Ebers,  Georg,  quoted  on  fairy 
tales,  22-24 ;  novels  by,  statable 
for  romantic  period,  49-50. 

Ekkehard,  recommended  for  high 
school  pupils,  49. 

"Emperor's  Vision,  The,"  legend 
of,  306. 

Entertainment,  not  the  chief  aim 
of  story-telling,  9. 

Epic  subjects,  sources  of  story 
material  in,  35-38;  suitable  for 
romantic  period,  44—45 ;  paint- 
ings that  portray,  104-105. 

Esenwein,  Berg,  rules  as  to  story- 
telling by,  54. 

Ethics,  story-telling  and  the  teach- 
ing of,  132-140;  stories  to  use 
for  teaching,  203,  204,  218,  222, 
229,  251,  274,  278,  289,  299, 
302,  306,  311,  317. 

Europe,  general  knowledge  and 
love  of  music  in,  83-84 ;  knowl- 
edge of  art  possessed  by  average 
person  in,  as  contrasted  with 
average  American,  95-97. 

Evangeline,  study  of,  by  story 
method,  78-79. 

Facial  gymnastics  in  story-telling, 
use  of,  63. 

"  Fairy,  The, "  publication  of,  26. 

Fairy  stories,  origin  of,  20-21 ; 
care  La  use  of,  with  children, 
21-22 ;  question  of  encouraging 
falsehood  by,  22-24;  theories 
as  to  beginnings  of,  25-26 ;  one 
of  the  oldest  forms  of  literature, 
26;  early  collections,  26-27; 
care  necessary  in  selecting,  for 
children,  28-29;  elements  in, 
to  be  especially  guarded  against, 
29-30 ;  bibliography  of,  31. 

"Fall  of  London  Bridge,  The," 
story  of,  326. 

Fallersleben,    H.     von,    story    of 


"The   Forget-me-not"   adapted 

from,  226. 
Falsehood,  not  encouraged  by  fairy 

tales,  22-24. 
"Forget-me-not,   The,"   story  of 

226. 

Gainsborough,  pictures  by,  suitable 
for  little  children,  99. 

Geneva,  Lake,  luck  boat  of,  5; 
story  of,  retold,  295. 

Geography,  story-telling  to  in- 
tensify interest  in,  168-177; 
stories  to  use  in  teaching,  222, 
269,  274,  289,  295,  296  299, 
302,  317. 

Gest,  Lady  Charlotte,  translator  of 
the  Mabinogion,  36. 

Gesture  in  story-telling,  question 
of  use  of,  63. 

"Gift  of  the  Gnomes,  The,"  story 
of,  274. 

Glinski,  story  of  "Prince  Unex- 
pected" adapted  from,  239. 

"God  of  the  Thundering  Water, 
The,"  Iroquois  legend,  174-176. 

"  Goody-goody  "  stories,  harm  done 
by,  133-134. 

"Great  Stone  Face,"  climax  of,  56. 

"Greedy  Cobbler,  The,"  story  of, 
251. 

Greek  myths,  as  source  material 
for  stories  for  heroic  period, 
36-37. 

Grimm  Brothers,  appearance  of, 
as  collectors  and  preservers  of 
Thuringian  folklore,  27 ;  be- 
ginnings of  stories  by,  54; 
stories  retold  from,  209,  212, 
218. 

Guerber,  Helene  A.,  Legends  of  the 
Middle  Ages  by,  44. 

Halevy,    Ludovic,    fascination    of 

stories  by,  50. 
"Half-Chick,"  source  of,  25. 


392 


Index 


Hall,  G.  Stanley,  plea  of,  in  behalf 
of  Bible  stories,  118-119. 

"Hansel  and  Gretel, "  modification 
of,  for  children,  30. 

Heroic  period,  story  interests  in, 
32-41 ;  works  of  art  suitable  for, 
104-105 ;  Bible  stories  for,  123 ; 
Old  Testament  stories  suitable 
for,  124. 

Hiawatha,  as  material  for  stories 
for  heroic  period,  38 ;  material 
for  dramatic  work  in,  114. 

History,  stories  from,  suitable  for 
children  in  heroic  period,  38-40 ; 
plays  and  pageants  to  be  used 
in  connection  with,  115;  ma- 
terial found  in  stories  from,  for 
teaching  of  ethics,  140;  story- 
telling to  intensify  interest  in, 
143-167 ;  stories  to  use  in 
teaching,  263,  326. 

Honesty,  story  to  teach,  203. 

Hood,  Margaret  Graham,  "The 
Search  for  the  Seven  Cities" 
by,  149-167. 

"Hop  o'  My  Thumb,"  first  ap- 
pearance of,  27. 

"How  They  Came  to  Have  Kite 
Day  in  China,"  Chinese  folk 
tale,  330. 

Iliad,    stories   from,    suitable    for 

children   in   heroic   period,    35 ; 

material  for  romantic  period  in, 

44. 
Imaginative  period,  story  interests 

in,  20-30. 
Indian  legends,  stories  based  on, 

174,  299. 

Jacques,  introducing  children  to 
paintings  by,  103-104. 

Japanese  legend,  "Why  the  Jap- 
anese Love  the  Stork,"  296. 

Jerusalem  Delivered,  material  for 
romantic  period  in,  44. 


John  of  Hildesheim,  works  of,  a 

help   to   the   Bible   story-teller, 

123. 
Jordan,  David  Starr,  science  stories 

by,  182-183;    "The  Story  of  a 

Salmon"  by,  255;    "The  Story 

of  a  Stone"  by,  331. 
Joshua,  book  of,  as  an  adventure 

story,  125. 
Judges,    book    of,    viewed    as    a 

collection  of  narratives,  126. 
"Jussieu     and     the     Heliotrope," 

story  of,  325. 

Key,  Ellen,  use  of  love  stories  in 
romantic  period  advocated  by, 
48. 

Kindness,  story  teaching,  218. 

Labor,  artists  and  paintings  that 

lead  to  respect  for,  104. 
"Lady  of  Stavoren,  The,"  story 

of,  289. 
Lagerlof,  Selma,  works  of,  a  help 

to   the  Bible  story-teller,    123; 

legend     of     "The     Emperor's 

Vision"  adapted  from,  306. 
Landseer,  Sir  Edwin,  pictures  by, 

suitable  for  little  children,  98- 

99. 
Lang,   Andrew,  totemistic  theory 

of,  3,  25. 
Langobardian    myths,    interesting 

in  romantic  period,  45. 
Lanier,  Sidney,  The  Boy's  Mabino- 

gion  by,   36;     The  Boy's  King 

Arthur  by,  44. 
"Last  Lesson,"   Daudet's,  climax 

of,  56. 

Libraries,  story-telling  in,  9. 
Literature,  story-telling  to  lead  to 

appreciation  of,  69-82. 
"Little   Stepmother,   The,"   story 

of,  227. 
"London    Bridge,    The   Fall   of," 

story  of,  326. 


Index 


Longfellow,  H.  W.,  study  of  poems 

of,  by  story  method,  78-80. 
Love  stories,  use  of,  with  children 

in  romantic  period,  48-49. 
"  Luck  Boat  of  Lake  Geneva,  The," 

Swiss  legend,  5 ;  retold,  295. 
"Luck  Boy  of  Toy  Valley,  The," 

story  of,  302. 
Lying,  fairy  tales  and,  22-24. 

Mabinogion,  stories  from,  suitable 
for  heroic  period,  35,  36;  ma- 
terial for  dramatic  work  in,  114. 

MacManus,  Seumas,  quoted,  7. 

Madonna  pictures,  use  of,  with 
little  children,  100-101. 

"Man  in  the  Moon,  The  Story  of 
the,"  203-204. 

Manual  training,  use  of  story- 
telling in,  192-197;  story  of 
"The  Luck  Boy  of  Toy  Valley" 
for  use  in,  302. 

Marlitt,  Eugenie,  works  of,  suitable 
for  romantic  period,  49. 

Memorizing  of  stories,  a  mistake, 
63. 

Millet,  introducing  children  to 
paintings  by,  103-104. 

"Monarch,  the  Big  Bear  of  Tal- 
lac,"  Thompson  Seton's,  16-17. 

Mom  the  Goal  Boy,  suitable  for  the 
romantic  period,  49. 

Moralizing,  avoidance  of,  67-68. 

Moral  training,  story-telling  and, 
132-140.  See  Ethics. 

Mother  Goose,  reason  for  love  of 
children  for,  13. 

Mozart,  story  of  "The  Duty  That 
Wasn't  Paid"  dealing  with  life 
of,  278. 

Miihlbach,  Louisa,  novels  of,  for 
romantic  period,  49. 

Miiller,  Max,  Aryan  theory  of,  3. 

Murillo,  an  ideal  painter  to  intro- 
duce to  little  children,  100. 

Music,  story-telling  to  awaken  an 


appreciation  of,  83-93;    use  of, 
by  Bible  story-tellers,  129 ;  story 
to  use  in  connection  with,  278. 
Mythological    subjects,    paintings 
that  portray,  104-105. 

Narrative  style  better  than  dia- 
logue in  story-telling,  53. 

National  epics,  as  sources  of  story 
material  in  heroic  period,  35- 
38;  portions  of,  suitable  for 
romantic  period,  44-45 ;  first 
issue  of,  in  poetic  form,  to  be 
made  clear  to  children,  45 ; 
paintings  portraying  subjects 
of,  104-105. 

Nature  study,  story-telling  to  in- 
tensify interest  in,  178-190 ; 
stories  helpful  in,  208,  226,  227, 
255,  269,  325. 

Nibelungenlied,  stories  from,  suit- 
able for  children  in  heroic 
period,  35 ;  material  for  ro- 
mantic period  in,  44. 

Nightingale,  Florence,  story  of, 
suitable  for  romantic  period, 
46-47. 

Odyssey,  stories  from,  suitable  for 

children   in   heroic   period,    35 ; 

material  for  romantic  period  in, 

44. 
Ogier  the  Dane,  story  of,  suitable 

for  heroic  period,  37. 
Ohnet,    Georges,    novels    of,     for 

romantic  period,  50. 
Olcott,     Frances     Jenkins,     Bible 

Stories  to  Read  and  Tell  by,  122. 
Old    Testament,    stories    in,    for 

children,  120-129. 
Ouida,  "A  Dog  of  Flanders"  by, 

16 ;   "The  Child  of  Urbino"  by, 

102. 

Pageants,  use  of,  115. 
Pantomime,  acting  stories  in,  114. 


394 


Index 


"Parsifal,"    tale   of,    suitable   for 

children  in  romantic  period,  44. 
Partridge,  G.  E.,  quoted,  63. 
Penlamerone,  II,  early  collection  of 

fairy  tales,  26. 
Perrault,   Charles,   "La  Belle  au 

Bois  Dormant"  by,  26;    Contes 

du  Temps  Passe  avec   Moralites 

credited  to,  27. 

"Pet  Baven,  The,"  legend  of,  317. 
Physical  education,  story  for  use 

in  connection  with,  330. 
Pictures,  story-telling  for  teaching 

love    of,    95-106;     scenes    for 

dramatization  suggested  by,  116 ; 

to  be  used  in  Bible  story-telling, 

129-130.     See  Art. 
"Pied  Piper,"  suitable  for  drama- 
tization by  little  children,  112- 

113. 
"  Pigeons  of  Venice,  The, "  story  of, 

263. 
"Poor  Man  and  the  Rich  Man, 

The,"    story    of,    retold    from 

Grimm,  218. 
Primitive-why  story,  period  when 

child  enjoys,  20. 
"Prince    Unexpected,"    story    of, 

239. 
"Puss  in  Boots,"  first  appearance 

of,  26. 
"  Pygmalion  and  Galatea, "  of  little 

meaning  to  y6ung  children,  37. 

"Babbit  and  the  Easter  Eggs, 
The,"  story  of,  228. 

Racial  tales,  fascination  of,  in 
rhythmic  period,  14 ;  enjoyment 
of,  by  children  in  imaginative 
period,  20. 

Raphael,  acquainting  little  chil- 
dren with,  100-101 ;  paintings 
by,  for  children  of  intermediate 
period,  102. 

Realistic  period  in  children's  story 
interests,  13-18. 


Recitations,  shortening  of,  to  give 
time  for  story-telling,  169. 

"Red  Riding  Hood,"  first  appear- 
ance of,  26;  beginning  of,  54; 
climax  of,  56. 

Reference  work  necessary  to  story- 
telling, 11. 

Rembrandt,  story  of  "  Wilhelmina's 
Wooden  Shoes"  dealing  with  life 
of,  283. 

Repetition  in  jingles,  surprise  ele- 
ment in,  57. 

Repetitive  stories,  fascination  of, 
in  rhythmic  period,  13-14. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  pictures 
by,  suitable  for  young  children, 
98. 

Rhine,  legend  of  the,  "The  Pet 
Raven, "  317. 

Rhythmic  period,  story  interests 
in,  12-18. 

Richards,  Laura  E.,  Life  of  Florence 
Nightingale  by,  47. 

"  Riquet  o'  the  Tuft, "  published  by 
Perrault,  27. 

Robin  Hood,  story  of,  a  good  ad- 
venture tale,  34-35 ;  material 
for  dramatic  work  in,  114. 

Roland  and  Oliver,  dramatic  quali- 
ties in  tale  of,  37. 

Romantic  period,  story  interests  of 
childhood  in,  42-50. 

Rubens,  pictures  by,  suitable  for 
children  of  intermediate  period, 
103. 

Ruskin,  John,  on  use  of  Bible 
stories,  119. 

"St.  George  and  the  Dragon,"  a 

favorite  story  in  heroic  period, 

38. 
Scheffel,  J.  V.  von,  Ekkehard  by, 

49. 
Schmidt,  Canon,  story  of  "The 

Easter    Eggs"    adapted    from, 

229. 


Index 


395 


Schools,  place  given  story-telling 
in,  8-9;  time  for  telling  stories 
in,  67 ;  mistake  of  study  of 
literature  in,  by  dissecting 
process,  75—76 ;  value  of  story- 
telling in,  199-200. 

Schubert,  Franz,  story  concerning 
boyhood  of,  89-93. 

Science  teaching,  story-telling  and, 
178-190 ;  stories  to  use  in,  255, 
325,  331. 

Scottish  Highlands,  story-telling 
in,  5. 

"Search  for  the  Seven  Cities, 
The,"  by  Margaret  Graham 
Hood,  149-167. 

Sentimentalism  in  stories,  lack  of 
response  by  children  to,  184. 

Shasta  legend,  "Why  Grizzly  Bear 
Goes  on  All  Fours, "  299. 

Shedlock,  Marie  L.,  five  minutes 
of  silence  after  each  story  ad- 
vocated by,  57. 

"Shepherd  Who  Turned  Back, 
The,"  Syrian  legend  retold,  311. 

Sicily,  knowledge  of  classics  pos- 
sessed by  peasants  of,  18. 

"Silver  Cones,  The,"  story  of,  222. 

Slavic  wonder  tale,  "Prince  Un- 
expected," 239. 

"Sleeping  Beauty,"  "Brier  Rose" 
a  modification  of  same  story, 
25 ;  published  by  Perrault,  26. 

Social  instincts,  development  of, 
by  use  of  stories  with  geo- 
graphical or  historical  back- 
ground, 170-171. 

Southey,  Robert,  "The  Three 
Bears"  by,  28. 

Spyri,  Johanna,  Moni  the  Goal 
Boy  by,  49;  story  of  "The 
Silver  Cones"  adapted  from, 
222. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  interesting  chil- 
dren hi  works  of,  by  telling 
stories  about,  71-73. 


Story  interests  of  childhood,  in 
rhythmic  period,  12-18;  in 
imaginative  period,  20-30;  in 
heroic  period,  32-41 ;  in  ro- 
mantic period,  42-50. 

"Story  of  a  Salmon,  The,"  by 
David  Starr  Jordan,  255. 

"Story  of  a  Stone,  The, "  by  David 
Starr  Jordan,  331. 

Story-telling,  purpose  and  ami  of, 
1—11 ;  interests  in  rhythmic 
period,  12-18 ;  interests  hi  im- 
aginative period,  20-30;  in- 
terests in  heroic  period,  32-41 ; 
interests  in  romantic  period, 
42-50;  building  the  story,  52- 
57;  telling  the  story,  58-68; 
and  appreciation  of  literature, 
69-82 ;  to  awaken  an  apprecia- 
tion of  music,  83-93;  and 
appreciation  of  art,  95-106; 
and  dramatization,  107-117 ; 
Bible  stories,  118-131;  teaching 
of  ethics,  132-140;  to  intensify 
interest  in  history,  143-167 ;  to 
intensify  interest  in  geography, 
168-177 ;  and  nature  study,  178- 
190;  in  teaching  domestic 
science  and  manual  training, 
192-197;  general  statement  as 
to  value  of,  198-201. 

Story-writing,  course  in,  recom- 
mended for  the  professional 
story-teller,  52. 

Straparola,  publisher  of  first  col- 
lection of  fairy  tales,  26. 

Supernatural  beliefs,  primitive 
man's,  as  revealed  in  fairy 
tales,  25-27;  effect  of  physical 
features  of  different  regions 
upon,  and  so  upon  fairy  tales, 
27. 

Surprise  element  in  stories,  55-57. 

Suspense,  element  of,  6,  55 ;  in- 
crease in,  by  use  of  pauses, 
64-65. 


396 


Index 


Swedish  legend,   "The  Emperor's 

Vision,"  306. 
"Sweet     and     Low,"     suggested 

method  of  interesting  children 

in,  73-74. 

Swiss  legends  retold,  274,  311. 
Syrian     legend,     "The  Shepherd 

Who  Turned  Back,  "311. 

Talking  machines,  use  of,  for 
introducing  children  to  music, 
86,  89. 

Tell,  William,  stories  of,  suitable 
for  children  in  heroic  period,  39. 

Thuringian  folk  tales,  gathered 
and  preserved  by  the  Grimms, 
27;  retold,  204,  209,  212,  218, 
226,  227. 

Fotemistic  theory,  Lang's,  3,  25. 

"Ugly  Duckling,"  unsuitable  for 
children  who  have  never  been 
in  country,  15 ;  surprise  element 
in  ch'max  of,  56. 

Van  Dyck,  Anthony,  familiarizing 


little  children  with  paintings  by, 
101. 

Van  Dyke,  Henry,  on  avoidance 
of  moralizing  in  story-telling, 
67;  works  of,  a  help  to  the 
Bible  story-teller,  123. 

Vedas,  theory  of  origin  of  fairy 
stories  in  the,  25. 

"Venice,  The  Pigeons  of,"  story 
of,  263. 

Vincent,  Jacques,  fascination  of 
stories  by,  50. 

Vocational  training,  use  of  story- 
telling in,  192-197. 

Welsh    folk    tale,    "The    Greedy 

Cobbler,"  251. 
"Why  Grizzly  Bear  Goes  on  All 

Fours,"  Shasta  legend,  299. 
"Why    the    Japanese    Love    the 

Stork, "  Japanese  legend,  296. 
"  Wilhelmina's    Wooden    Shoes," 

story  of,  283. 
"Wonderful  Builders,  The,"  story 

of,  188-190. 
Wonder  tales,  period  when  child 

enjoys,  20. 


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